A quick peace
and a silent warrior
quickened in her pain
by a song.
In her memories
rides the ever torment
of not being heard
nor understood
of being prodded and poked
by the critically triggered.
Freedom became bound
in harsh stares and words.
Silence stole her windowless words unawares.
Memories poked holes in her speech
and there it was
a quick peace
and a silent warrior
wordless and weary.
For whatever flew in these skies
have since billowed
and whoever travelled on these trails
is now buried
silenced by her memories
removed from the flap
she survives
broken by her keep
but still saddled and moving.
LauraLee K. Harris