Modern Soldier

by Lauren Maltas

We gather, as minds do
In petticoat parades, making our statements with our feet
We are the wildflowers refusing
Breaking out from your quadrats
Climbing off the walls and onto the streets

Underneath my corset is a ribcage
In which my heart is contained
It wears Balmoral boots
A mackintosh coat
A hair pin that doubles as a weapon

Like lanterns in a street show
We glow in sepia tones
Are called by the chains that suspend us
We may fall and crash or obliterate
Though our puddles of glass will shimmer
Green, white, violet
You will know the colours that make us

Underneath my hat is a skull
In which my mind is contained
It wears Balmoral boots
A mackintosh coat
A hair pin that doubles as a weapon

We walk as comrades through war
Shields of mosaic reflecting
We use deeds not words
For what has been mended and made done
For the language that speaks in battle
Where we sink, if we do not run