The Great Sky

by Winston Ganzfeld

 

As startled kestrels hover
Atop the firelit valley
Askance in fractal shivers,
The assassins sally

Conclusively to sever
The arc of days of one
Dissenting from the terror,
The detritus of bone.

No sleeper wakes. None woken
Effect the roaring dream,
The gravamen of cleansings,
The staves of monochrome.

The bitter smoke from cities rise:
The hated masters strike and rave:
The bombs fall loose in hawking guise,
Rear darkness and the grave.

Archaic cryostasis:
The blade that flays, the cry
Of silence that effaces.
Wings twist in the great sky.