A CALL FOR ARMS
we must be brave
too much,
the raven cries outside
bedspread
over my head
I tremble unseen
when the wind rises
he warms my hands
against his chest
I beg him
to stay through the night,
fight off the demons
and no mother’s lap is left for safety
too much,
he repeats to me
the door
clicks behind him heading
deep into the Covid night
The poems of Pris Campbell have appeared in numerous journals and anthologies, including PoetsArtists, Rusty Truck, Bicycle Review, Chiron Review, and Outlaw Poetry Network. The Small Press has published eight collections of her poetry and Clemson University Press a collaboration with Scott Owens. When The Wolves Come After You, with Michael Parker, from Goss Publications and Squalls on the Horizon, a book of tanka, from Nixes Mate and My Southern Childhood are her most recent small press books. A former Clinical Psychologist, sailor and bicyclist until sidelined by ME/CFS in 1990, she makes her home in the Greater West Palm Beach, Florida, with her husband.
Pris, Mysterious, foreboding, desperate, succinct. Great poem!