General’s Report
I was just coming to grips
with the opening salvo, when
a dubious timbre escaped her
throat. It set off the twitchy
hair trigger, as electrodes in my
brain arrived with the artillery.
Fortress walls clattered with the
mêlée of spiky syllables in flight.
Her footsteps retreating jig
time down gossiping stairs
had the last word—inflicting
the heavier damage by a long shot.
©️Orion Foote, 2022
Visions of Orion Poetry 