Yehoshua Reyez’s Two Poems

1

Mandala

There is a brief moment in the dive of a falcon

that determines if it will be

a mandala of bones and muscles splayed across the earth,

or split its wings and become shadow,

a cry ascending to heaven with a field mouse.

Today,

now, is that moment.

2

Salute

There’s a soldier I have to bury today.His rifle remains.
A well-oiled trigger, slippery, ever ready to shoot first. Hot oil foaming at the muzzle.His boots remain.

They were made by running, climbing the walls other’s laid, kicking the wrong, walking away from those he maimed, some left dead, some given their own boots,

boots like his.

I bury his hands today. Scarred things, mittens of bruises,

knuckles pale, like scarred sperm whales.

A watch turned inward, never the time for others.

I bury that mind of his.

The one that knew to pretend not to see you follow him.

The one that doubled back shoeless from the corner to witness you fail your hunt.

The mind that knew your weakness before you did, but never his own strengths.

I bury his back, the one that lifted up dead men, like the living dance.

I buried a soldier today, for saving me.
Because he’ll never know when to stop.

That wasn’t in his training.  Not in the pamphlet.  Not a trigger.
“That’s enough!” a mother screamed.
but am I?I have his things.

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