Freedom In the Arena
hot is the noon sun
melting flowers in the mud…
arena cheers for raw blood
I glare at my foe
his dagger raking bruised knee
…weight of life upon my shield
fierce blow cracks his neck
rudis pressed on stained chain mail…
breath smelling of freedom’s prize
audience casts flowers
thumbs hunger for next combat
more slaves to kill… but not me.
©
*rudis---when a gladiator is set free as a slave
after a bout, he is given a wooden sword,
named rudis.
For Amy Green’s Choka for Chokehold
By nette onclaud
Copyright © Nette Onclaud | Year Posted 2012
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