“Above the village
You can hear the drone
Its lizard-eye looking
At your family home
Did you make a wrong move?
Did you wear the wrong coat?
A flick of the wrist
And that’s all she wrote….”
“You can trace a line
From the Blombos Caves
Where they carved the ochre
And they killed the slaves
They thought there were gods
In that blood-red dust
The same blind fear
Is pulsing in us…”
“Who will ease the city’s ills?
Who will love honor more than evil’s frills?
In the last dim battle
On the once-pure snow
The blood-red dust
Pours out of your soul…”
© Chris Floyd 2014