Two Poems

Night Swimming

The woods walk with
an old man, towards

late-afternoon lake.
Soon, the sun sets

on water cradled
in his hand he drinks.

Then, his body dips
in moon-lit pond,

restful as fish,
away its banks that

sometimes lap and drown
wrinkles in clothes.

 

Portrait of A Soldier

He heard it,
the sound of the sun

setting, as though
its edge had

scratched the sky,
bleeding as it sinks

into the horizon,
moments

before some bullets
flew to rest in him.