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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