For Tim, on the Eve of Battle
tribute to tim murphy
For Tim, on the Eve of Battle
This charge I commit unto thee, son Timothy,
according to the prophecies which went before on thee,
that thou by them mightest war a good warfare.
—1 Timothy 1:18
The rattles, caws and clicks of circling crows
outdo the western meadowlark of late;
flickertails in burrows hibernate
in colonies till spring; and I suppose
your fields are carpeted with winter snows,
your hunting boots and Winnie 28
cleaned and set aside. They’ll have to wait,
like Chucky, who looks up at you, and knows.
Yet soon the great Red River, frozen now,
will recommence its northward course, and pink
wild prairie roses bloom beneath the fair
cerulean High Plains skies. Farmers will plow
their acres once again.
Let not your ink
run dry, my friend. Fear not the trumpet’s blare.
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