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Friday, September 05, 2008

A Human Review

1

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.

2

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.

3

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.

4

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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