| May 2009 |
| Poetry |
| Megan Arkenberg |
It’s not that I don’t love you,
the brave warrior whose heart
I hold in my hand. Press your fingers
here, to my breast, and feel
the skip in my heartbeat
when I think of you gone.
Tell me of the years, the long years
that will gray me as you sail
to distant, clouded worlds. Tell me
of the battles, the blood, and the cold
of my empty bed—I can bear that pain.
But do not ask me for promises;
do not ask me to wait. It is more
than my warrior heart can bear.
It’s not that I wouldn’t sacrifice
every night of dreams
for this one hour of you in my arms.
Swear to return
and I will wait for you forever
but do not ask me for promises;
I’ve never made one
I haven’t broken.
<end>
the brave warrior whose heart
I hold in my hand. Press your fingers
here, to my breast, and feel
the skip in my heartbeat
when I think of you gone.
Tell me of the years, the long years
that will gray me as you sail
to distant, clouded worlds. Tell me
of the battles, the blood, and the cold
of my empty bed—I can bear that pain.
But do not ask me for promises;
do not ask me to wait. It is more
than my warrior heart can bear.
It’s not that I wouldn’t sacrifice
every night of dreams
for this one hour of you in my arms.
Swear to return
and I will wait for you forever
but do not ask me for promises;
I’ve never made one
I haven’t broken.
<end>
Bio:
Megan Arkenberg is a student in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, who somehow finds time to write fantasy fiction, horror,
and short-form poetry. Her work has recently appeared in Beneath Ceaseless Skies, Dreams & Nightmares, and
Modern English Tanka. Megan procrastinates by editing the fantasy e-zine Mirror Dance:
http://mirrordancefantasy.blogspot.com.
Megan Arkenberg is a student in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, who somehow finds time to write fantasy fiction, horror,
and short-form poetry. Her work has recently appeared in Beneath Ceaseless Skies, Dreams & Nightmares, and
Modern English Tanka. Megan procrastinates by editing the fantasy e-zine Mirror Dance:
http://mirrordancefantasy.blogspot.com.
| Dusk |