Baby Mountains
The boy sees snakes of soldiers
Wrap around montains int he distance
With guns that throw the sun at him.
Toys, plentiful and minuiscule.
Black metallic falcons scream above his little ears
Fingerpainting for him.
Silver streaks across the sky.
Does the baby know what war is?
Can the cherub feel the fire?
Did the baby put his fists up?
Can he share the battle cries?
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