Sestina

Once I draw you close
After thoughtless times of conflict
Sometimes I trace a single tear
And as we listen to the wind
I rue always my quick offence
That ready store of words I fire

And with the sunset’s ruby fire
Another day draws to a close
Waning beams’ fading offence
Subduing daylight’s conflict
As the ceaseless clock-hands wind
I see no more that tear

And I wonder can a tear
Ever quench a burning fire?
Fanned by the backdraft wind
That ever circles when we’re close
Fomenting phoenix conflict
Some new-born offence

Recast my weapons of offence
Barbed hooks to pierce and tear
In their rightful world of conflict
Incendiary rage and friendly fire
Where the sweat of men blows close
In the dry scirocco wind

Banshees wailing in that wind
Thor’s hammers of offence
Curled fingers bunch and close
As their bodies flock and tear
Consumed by the hungry fire
Of another world-staged conflict

These familiar fantasies of conflict
Whimsical as the wind
Forever sparking men’s hearts anew to fire
And precipitate mortal offence
That ever draws the mother’s tear
As another life’s drawn to a close

So let me fire my conflict and discharge
Let a cool wind blow me close
And I’ll reach out to you, I ever know, that your tear is my offence