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.