Bridges are flooded.
Moonlight cast into darkness.
Passing- some will see death,
lying in surrender, begging for footsteps.
The pacifist is dreaming in this moonlight
weaving funeral blankets from hemp cord, eating organic hummus.
The soldier searches for a way to get back to his waking nightmare,
to soothe the violent mind like calendula balm on a burn.
Scrolls of blood and scripture arranged neatly on the alter,
the devout on calloused knees,
waiting for their fair share.
Earth swallows the heart of God.
No blindness or glaring light
can cure, man wrapping himself like a blanket
around the devil.
Middle ground stretches on,
making the walk from hate to love go on for ages.
Sleepwalkers dig their
graves.
NorthSouth Press 