you are

the landmine

I keep stepping on-

until little pieces of me fly away.

Dangerous path.

The men roll up in tanks.

The men ahead dig you out.

They scope and scan, searching for any trace.

I follow behind.

I know your tricks, your graces,

the graves you dig.

I was all whole.

Until I stepped on your landmine.

Now I am pieces-

and learning to sew.