Casque Bleu

So he must so he

stands up from within

outlandish leaves,

casts away the rifle,

tries on a smile he’s

never felt his face

make before, and as

they approach gazes

down the valley of

the unpronounceable

river, whose stony

shallows, when he’d

scrambled to this refuge,

had quietly bickered

in the dark, and now

glitter furiously just

above the shoulder

of his captor, above

the vicious muzzle

of his gesticulating

gun. Sudden cloud-

crossed memories:

his daughter’s sharp

voice, starlings routed

from an oak… How

warm the blue helmet

feels under his fingers,

as he stumbles down

this slope, dislodging

historical stones, up-

right in a posture

of excellent repose.

“Casque Blue” first appeared in Off the Coast.