Small Forces

In the corner of the the house, outside At the end of a long trail of cold, shut up windows There is a procession, a vigil kept through the night Beneath the notice of even the smallest branch Or the thoughts of a bird landing on a tree There is a band of brothers slaving for their home Lining up as fine as thread But chained together as if forged from steel Lifting broken leaves, a crumb of bread, a sugar crystal They're heaving cars, boulders, buildings Silently bearing their burden, they hold a torch for each other Tiny miracles in the night, performing feats of magic A struggle that defies ages past carries on- invisible All for their children they walk, martyred often While future generations of their families Hang in the balance Jeremy Martin 2/19/13