“Angel of Death” by Kendra Boyd

In the morning, your medic 
must return to his fort. In the night
he whispers

I am the angel of death.
He doesn’t fire-arm. You know
what his

fire-arms can’t undo. He chose
the battlefield to control
life and death, friend and foe.

With one look in a soldier’s eyes,
he believes he found the key
to life’s secrets. Corralled

in your sheets he observes
the platoon of souls just
doing their jobs.
 



Kendra Boyd studies Poetry and Fiction at the University of Nebraska at Omaha. She’s served on The Linden Review as Senior Editor and 13th Floor Magazine as Editor-in-Chief. Her writing strives to be experimental in form and language, while derived from personal and emotional moments in her life. Her work can be found in 13th Floor Magazine, New Note Poetry, and forthcoming in Clockhouse and Meetinghouse Magazine.