Black ink and sunbeams poetry

Imagination lost to

the rust-steppes,

fury catches in red and blue,

Brother,

where we once broke bread at

your father’s table

and traded dreams by the watershed,

now, for our children’s sake,

we curse each other in the sable light,

we water the flowerbed with lives,

come sunrise,

righteousness cast aside,

your faith, my philosophy,

your cross or my pen,

neither, like a soul sustained

retain their worth before

so senseless a tragedy,

defiant,

reasons tattered banner

upon the mound of non-violent resolution

shames our memory