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
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