Sightlines

Faraway,
the people say
they came to rest
upon the shore, one day
blown away
from homes on best,
of lands they came from faraway.
a group of men,
tall, each like a mercenary,
the final icing of defeat
none too strong to massacre,
the living and the dead.


Did you ever hear
of them
those
who came
stumbling
along
the back lanes
like
rusting bicycles
that
creak
with every tensing push,
and
shudder
beside
the lone gray
hedgerow
that
creeps

beside
the
path.


And then, heaven opened up like wildfier
on a cool summers night,
invasive,
not taking any chances with the luck.
The sky, all glowing of amber shades
the eyes of men,
glazed in porcelain hues of white
and red.
Hearts, made of flesh and feeling,
all turned to dust,
with divine intervention,
fly away.
Created from the flotsam and jetsam,
all great things come to pass,
from the smallest grain of sand,
to the largest fire in the sky.