Milkweed Boats
by Joel Best
“A pound or so of milkweed floss could keep a 150-pound person floating for more than 40 hours. . . . So children were asked to pick milkweed, filling sack after sack with the silky white floss.” —Milwaukee Journal Sentinel
Photo by Michael & Diane Weidner on Unsplash
we had no part
in the new war other than to let it take place
it spun together in our hand
touched by broken fingers
battles counted themselves
in sleepy rhythms
cannonade sent us to a place
sharpened by imagination
we wore black hoods
and shirts made from children’s souls
in the sooted dawn asked the burning dead
for absolution
they cared not to answer having neither mouths
nor tongues
in the new war other than to let it take place
it spun together in our hand
touched by broken fingers
battles counted themselves
in sleepy rhythms
cannonade sent us to a place
sharpened by imagination
we wore black hoods
and shirts made from children’s souls
in the sooted dawn asked the burning dead
for absolution
they cared not to answer having neither mouths
nor tongues
Joel Best’s poetry has appeared or will appear in venues such as JMWW, Common Ground Review, and Apeiron Review. His chapbook, august, never (Finishing Line Press) is forthcoming. He lives in upstate New York with his wife and son.
A 2023 Pushcart Prize nominee, Best's poem can be found in Issue 24 of Glassworks.
