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April’s PAD — Day Twenty-five

April 26, 2014

prompt: write a “last straw” poem


Drawing Straws

We stood, beads of sweat
sliding down our faces
None of us wanted the job
to transport more artillery
over enemy lines —
going meant never coming back
this was a death sentence

I drew first
looked at my straw in secret
every man in turn drew his
no one knew which was shortest
We held our breaths
as Jack drew the last straw
and we slowly compared

My hands shook, my knees bolted
I crumbled to the dirt below
In silent prayer I cried
not this time, not this time
It was so close, my straw so short
but poor Jack had the deadly one
the last straw, another good bye

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