Winner of 1998 Editor's Choice Award of the National
Library of Poetry and published in the NLP anthology The Rustling Leaves.
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Wrap myself in a web of gold To preach to children, young and old, The story of one silent night, The ground so barren, full of fright. Dry and desolate, alone it stands, Walking upon the Devil's hands. Tangled in its silver thread, Mourning those alive and dead. Whispering the silence, breathing the wind, First comes father, then next of kin. Walking toward the edge of light, Onward into the dead of night. Rotting flesh and burning heart, Oh, what terrors humans start! When first priorities are met too soon, "Golden coins for silver moon." And things of importance go to waste, When we walk, and walk with haste. Walking, opening the Devil's door, And obeying his wishes for evermore. |