Free Island

We’d won

out from the zombie

menace.

Some people,

travelers, said “Its Nature

coming to teach us.”

She taught us

everything and no-

thing but defense.

I sleep deep,

and traded silk moths, for wool,

for shirts and leggings.

Blue Blood Joan

and I made a pact,

every year,

in late spring,

we’d meet, to repopulate

our young and talk.

Our island,

the farmland in back,

the mountains

and valleys

are free for our babies;

the marauders come.

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