Leonard Gontarek: Playing the Long Game

The helicopter drops down

in flames in a sea of wheat.

The leader is a skeleton.

The leader is a statue.

The leader is a ghost.

I met him once, I shook

his hand. We clicked like magic.

Let us think about the powder

in his ring, don’t look at

the jewel in his wife’s locket.

Let us think, for a moment, about summer.

How dawn is like peach skin

and takes you in like acapella.

The light falls from the moon

like toy guns. Don’t ask me how,

it just does.

Copyright 2017 Leonard Gontarek