Today's poem is by Jehanne Dubrow

Civilian
       

I bring the war into my bed each night
    and let it press metallic to my cheek.
I barely move beneath the trembling light
    that it emits, a semaphore both bright
and shadowy, its messages oblique.
    I bring a war into my bed. Each night
it floats across the sheets toward me—despite
    the little swells of fear, I never speak.
I barely move beneath the trembling light,
    the bite of sea-salt on my lips, the slight,
unnerving sound of waves, the anchor's creak.
    I bring his war into my bed each night,
anticipate its sonar-ping, invite
    its touch. I know the heat its missiles seek.
I barely move. Beneath the trembling light,
    I am a target in the line-of-sight.
I am a shore toward which the cruisers streak.
    I bring our war into my bed each night
and barely move beneath its trembling light.

Copyright © 2025 Jehanne Dubrow All rights reserved
from Civilians
LSU Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission