“The Truth

is not alive out there.”

The words strike hard.

Piledriver revelations.

I’m pulling on my boots,

reaching for my coat,

ready to grab my hat,

and head out there

to find it.


“Don’t waste your time.”

Your face bears a look

between pain and derision.

“There’s nothing left.

It’s all been stolen, and sold,

and raped and polluted.”

You’re crying now.

Looking away, so I don’t see,

but you continue.

“Why would you risk going out

into all that?

Truth is gone.

It’s dead.”

I finish putting on my coat,

and take my hat

off the hook by the door.

You’re quiet as I put it on.

Your shoulders hunch defensively,

 as you look back

into the darkness

of our empty house.

I take a step

and put my arms around you,

squeezing gently.

Kissing the top of your head,

I whisper,

“I know,

but, if it’s out there,

it’s worth finding.

And I believe it is.”

You turn into my embrace,

wrapping your arms around me

and burying your face in my chest.

“I know you do.” you say quietly.

“And I believe you.

I’m scared.”

“I know.” I reply.

“I’ll be careful.”

Your hand casually brushes

the pistol at my waist,

and you look up at me,

eyes clear, now.

“You better be,

or I will kill you.”

Your bright smile

is all I am thinking about

as I turn to go.



DJR – 2023

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