Do-or-Die
Armies of crickets
advance, retreat, and regroup,
but won’t surrender.
Heat relents. The first leaves fall.
I will yield when the sun dies.
You said, “I cannot,”
your back turned to the sunset.
Then, you were silent.
I stared til my eyes burned out.
Blind, I threw rocks at the sun.
I did not expect
to upend Heaven’s order;
it’s a chance in Hell.
Tell me God decrees winter;
tell me seasons cannot change!
Tides change direction,
on the Normandy beaches.
It couldn’t happen.