unknown, adrift
in the small spaces between us?
When he grabbed the gun,
swallowed the pills,huffed a noxious puff,
poured out his blood
into the bathtub?
Were you there
on the bedroom floor,kitchen linoleum,
bathroom tile,
after the fist, the belt, the knife?
Were you there
when the cashier dropped her hand,pushed the alarm two seconds
too slow?
When the deal went bad,
or the heart roiled with revenge?
Bless those who will
meet up with the cross tonight,whose darkness has not yet
known a dawn so bright
it could bring us back from death.
Cynthia E. Robinson © 2013
1 comment:
WOW Cynthia.
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