IN JUSTICE

In justice
and out of patriotism
or greed
or the need of revenge
the skies do hear
the rain showers
on concentration camps,
Emmett Till
Hiroshima,
the passports of the unknown
seeking another path
in the adjacent line
of work
the artist's hand
loosened in a lost time zone,
the poet at the crossroad
of faith from the slow solitude
by a window's concealment,
the play write swallowing
her actor's primordial pride
in despair at a third act,
those surpassed by music's fire
calling the siren's cry
in motioning a separation
of desire over the flames,
the friends of the arts
in dialectical mercies
attending what joyful chorus
is left to kiss the earth
and the tall grass blades
by the greensward forest
of our diurnal mirrors
which haunt our awareness.