Beauty Fraught Poem by Kurt Philip Behm

Beauty Fraught



I was a soldier, but never sure
of those things I was
charged to do

I was asked to fight
pick up helmet and gun
men dying around me I knew

Those places I've been
and the things I've done
all eclipse the known profane

Now with beauty fraught
you must lock the gate
—inside this prison I remain

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April,2015)

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