Guardsmen

Featured image: The Precarious Lightness of Death’s Head, by Bre Legan

o’er ramparts my gaze followed, wandering the vernal hollows,
watching warm leaves swell and crash
upon the yellow pasture’s shore

the waves hung heavy, so unburdened. Rising, falling, breathing curtains,
so untroubled I was certain, unmoved by an outer force.

And yet without any reason they moved freely as the seasons,
my eyes were locked, none the keys in, watching that unsightly pour.

That unsightly downpour…

I clutched my coat as winter showers froze my hands and wet the towers
why today had this rain come and brought me back before.

Still I remember that old friend or rather I know who they were.
Who they were I knew before.

I was brought back to that August
when my health was full and modest
when my words were somewhat honest
when my life was mine to muster
when I had it all.

As I dazed the freeze-wind blustered, my eyes teared up, my mind flustered,
so distracted was my thinking, I had wandered far.

Down below my lofty tower I stood now in frigid showers, haunting that dead pasture’s flowers,
freezing down beneath the stars.
Cursing Morpheus’ presents, wishing for a stronger sentience,
willing myself to be present, needing to return.

Returned yes, though not in body, thrown back ages to that lobby,
to that dim reception from where I had come before.

Again I saw him, briefly fleeting, my heart pounded, voice was bleating
tears welled up and I was scared to tell them what I’d done.

Gazed upon that twisted metal, flick’ring headlights shone through better,
stronger than my feeble torch could shine all on its own.

Dropping down I knew what’d greet me but one last time I could see he
could be saved; I could have done it if I’d been less scared.

I gazed intently, scoured hard to find that face which I had carved
into a monster stalking me and every night so cold.
Then, recoiled so offended out of memories upended, into the world as the sun had reached those distant poles.

Bitter tears choking back, I knew
far I’d travelled and how I flew
far from where I had been safe, and out into the cold.

Tears still frozen I stood stranded, with no chance for time remanded, alone again at distant berth from that life that I’d once known.


Max Marquez is a junior in the Marquette Opus College of Engineering, where he is studying Biomedical Engineering.

Bre Legan is a graduate student in the Marquette communication department. Bre is an avid zine maker, hand poked tattooer, typewriter aficionado, organizer with Midcoast Artist Collective, weaver of magic, and explorer of this beautiful world.


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