Wednesday, April 6, 2011

A LENTEN DIRGE



A DARK CROSS



A dark cross casts its shadow over the valley,
but the blown rain breaks buds burnt like ashes
on the forehead of the land---this is a desert
where fear and pain thrive---only these twins
will grow out of the oases of blood let out
by blades broken into each brother’s bones:
crosses have lost their balm here, where
houses are better off without porches anymore.


—Albert B. Casuga
04-05-11 Mississauga, ON



Poetic Prompt: The porch is sleek with blown rain. Just past dawn I glimpse a small hawk circling low over the trees—long-tailed accipiter, a dark cross.---Dave Bonta, Morning Porch, 04-05-11
http://www.morningporch.com/


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