I never knew my fathers God
I do not know for sure he had one
He is in heaven now but one could argue
That he never left
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Where were you young child
When others played wild
Galloping on clouds, swinging from trees
Whispering in ears, screaming from bees
...
The power of nature, best viewed from afar
Like the hammer of God with a wrecking bar
Because to be too close, is to know fear the most
Not fear of death but a life that is toast
...
The fawn lies still, in the grass on the hill
Awaiting life, or the life of another
A jackal, an ant or the milk of a mother
So savage, so serene, to lie perfectly still and to not be seen
...
I've written about her
A life in a song
I think not of her daily
But all day long
...
From spears and hatchets they held in palms
Came muskets, machine guns and atom bombs
In rank and file they did emerge
For a crumb of bread or another urge.
...
Nothing sadder than the auction
At a broken church, where religion is sold
For a dollar or two
Where often we're told
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This is a poem about an empty comment box
Don't look for it soon
But if you do, and if you are not slow
Just gather your thoughts and...please...
...