Bump Fire

Image Source: Flickr (cc)

the brush of a hand
slays in

whispers what
the fire cannot take

grows to an inferno

keeping pace with
heartbeats on the floor,

we are less than fully automatic,
or a bump stock, yet we feel
the trigger.

© Ben Ditmars 2017

Haiku in Memory of Tom Petty


i smell of the moon –

one last time to kill the pain

and taste rock candy.


no, i won’t back down

among the wildflowers

we belong to them.


music and chaos

free fall into nothing, the

sounds of nineteen guns.


she was an american girl…

a nurse, a teacher, a veteran.


© Ben Ditmars 2017

Photograph Courtesy of Helle Gade

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