Blood That Wouldn’t Yield

You thought that you could skip a stitch,

the thread provided free

 

You thought no one would ever notice,

just one small opening

 

The seam then weakened steadily,

threads loosened left and right

 

Excuses now unraveling,

Old Glory taking flight

 

The sinew given strong and taut,

to seal the danger out

 

But that one stitch you failed to close,

won’t mute the nightmare’s shout

 

Miss Ross is now in mourning,

as the stars have left the field

 

That one stitch you’ve forsaken

—draining blood that wouldn’t yield

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2017)

 

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