A poem by Lisa Stice

men board armored cruisers, C-130s
earn salaries, ranks
for the protection of—

chalk hearts, hopscotch squares
washed away in rain
sidewalks stained in pastel

boxes of melted crayons
melted a little more
inside a moving truck

birthday streamers
still rolled up somewhere
in a box under a box behind a box

locking a door
another last time
with no goodbyes

a girl in a hotel crib
not her blanket
her dog on guard

interstates like gray snapshots
where we lose our way

Lisa Stice received a BA in English literature from Mesa State College (now Colorado Mesa University) and an MFA in creative writing and literary arts from the University of Alaska Anchorage. She taught high school for ten years and is now a military wife who lives in North Carolina with her husband, daughter, and dog. Her full-length poetry collection, Uniform, is forthcoming with Aldrich Press. You can find out more about her and her publications at lisastice.wordpress.com and facebook.com/LisaSticePoet.