Shadows Keen
pain
courses through me
river run wild and red
with blood both ancient
and new as a morning's touch.
mourning in the flesh
i bewail a breach of trust
broken, shattered Will
stands like sullen statues
in the dark.
aching rips tear into
souls and souless flight alike.
you were a Healer
to heal we bared our
ragged, tattered,
empty-edged souls.
now all
is thrown like mud
in the faces of the crowd.
as they watch the Hangman turn
and see the face of Hope
upon the gibbet.
empty aches and empty echoes
nothing matters in the bone
blood and marrow
time and sorrow
all is empty
and aching
with a shattered shard
of trust
pierces my palm
a stillborn Christ
with no cross to bear
my load.
and no Lord to smile
upon this dusty shadow
keening
at the edge of the road.
poet
©5/16/00