War exists in beautiful places.
In the arms of a galaxy,
symbiotic stars swallow each other
and in the shallows of a reef,
a four-armed sea star spreads
over a shell like a chromosome.
Scarred, battle-weary, unable
to regenerate even a phantom limb,
they have become easy prey
to a larger rival, whose translucent feet
are creeping across the sand
like a terrible army. The veteran
is easily conquered, death
takes place in slow motion.
In devouring each other,
we devour ourselves.
Bex Hainsworth is a poet and teacher based in Leicester, UK. She won the Collection HQ Prize as part of the East Riding Festival of Words and her work has appeared or is forthcoming in Poetry Wales, The McNeese Review, Nimrod, and The Rialto. Walrussey, her debut pamphlet of ecopoetry, is published by The Black Cat Poetry Press.