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Friday, September 05, 2008

A Human Review


sirens ring sharp at dawn,
the day a white sheet
over a still body,
birds in uniform cluster
as we weep
over a still box

and the decimation of our land,
gravestones sprawl
like profanity,
living ties amputated,
another limb falls
from the tree,

we become what is
written in the sky.


we walk towards dark holes
that fill the sighing of the seasons,
all is but a blaze
and splutter of time,
here and gone,

we mourn over a body's
empty spaces,
touches become knives,
memories a fork
poked into the eye,

a poorly imagined confrontation
that speaks of our blindness.


fear and sadness steal
a grip on our arms,
while words stay low
as though muted through
a windshield,

we yield up lips in prayer
stuck on tame faces,
hopes arthritic plow
the heart's tundra,
footsteps nail the ground,

goosebumps pull up painfully
to sting in the shade.


divinity hungry and jagged,
we are its solemn parade
buried in veils;
simply impotent visuals
that speak and cry

to console a loss
the dead can't feel,
in abandoned orchards
where fate and circumstance wield
their axe the same,

for in life we call death
by its christened name.

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