Sideline

Desolation falls
This hurts like the wind
Brushed hard upon walls
In the darkness a call
A caravan whips
To the brimstone it claws
Hollowed and thin
What is evil?
What is sin?
Compared to the shared nature
One cannot have
Jostled on the sideline
Awaiting the task
There cannot be more whole
If there could depart from this mold
Enough! Enough
The spirit is dust
The ashes they blow
Lackluster cusps
Understand fate, glad
Actions speak
Louder are words
Lovingly placed at the nape
Sidelined and all.

Copyright, 2010, Christopher Baird--all rights reserved.
Contact me for reprint/posting permission.