Angry Ghosts Poem by Jacqueline Czel

Blood pools and trails
in patterns across the
grey stone floor of time
and trickles downward
in genetic cries and tricks
descendants as ghosts
call for their due and
justice and the exacting
of honor for having lain
bleeding on battle fields
and beneath cold soil,
blood calls to blood with
grave expectancy, a howl
and yearning for ritual
and rite, the bearing of
tradition and demands
acknowledgment of much
sacrifice made for many
freedoms or ideals not
much kept up anymore.