One Shall Be Taken

Two horses–look again–

Winged, like cherubim–

Watering at a marble trough,

Ivy in riot about them.

Reality? Silence, bones

Saline, a coffin–not a trough–

And a tale in the main that

Had been uneven, rough, harsh.

I’d have done it differently.

This cemetery makes me hard.

I want to know the Lord who

Stalls, and kill Him. I want

To ride His horse to heaven.