Untitled Poem 3
Silence holds my hand
As I walk up the azure summer stream
My pallid face and wrinkled hands
Tightly clenching silence
As I walk up the azure summer stream
My pallid face and wrinkled hands
Tightly clenching silence
Further along, hunters return
Championing a golden calf
A lesson not learned
Silence holds my hand
A bronze skinned man lies bleeding, forgotten
His crutch nailed through flesh
Red flickers from his chest, a bloodied body in the gutter
Silence moves me along.
