Daniel Richmond

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I never knew my fathers God
I do not know for sure he had one
He is in heaven now but one could argue
That he never left
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Where were you young child
When others played wild
Galloping on clouds, swinging from trees
Whispering in ears, screaming from bees
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The power of nature, best viewed from afar
Like the hammer of God with a wrecking bar
Because to be too close, is to know fear the most
Not fear of death but a life that is toast
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The fawn lies still, in the grass on the hill
Awaiting life, or the life of another
A jackal, an ant or the milk of a mother
So savage, so serene, to lie perfectly still and to not be seen
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I've written about her
A life in a song
I think not of her daily
But all day long
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From spears and hatchets they held in palms
Came muskets, machine guns and atom bombs
In rank and file they did emerge
For a crumb of bread or another urge.
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Nothing sadder than the auction
At a broken church, where religion is sold
For a dollar or two
Where often we're told
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This is a poem about an empty comment box
Don't look for it soon
But if you do, and if you are not slow
Just gather your thoughts and...please...
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