James Buckner McKinnon Poems

Alas! The pall of death from torment steals
Through coveted earths steeped in redness:
Carnage is wrought in spectral reels -
The pain of sorrow belies the deadness
...

He touched us
And I knew
From the stellar depths
We are as one -
...

Why is it so the elite and very rich rarely go
From the blind side of self to admit and (truly) know
They are the power and arbiters of human fate:
For the poor made weak, whose destiny is the mad gate
...