Hate resides
in crimson elevations.
Unfriendly grounds,
smoke filled hideouts,
crumbled rock
was once refuge.

Fallen steel and glass
tinder box holds
rancid relatives,
disenfranchised friends,
football plays,
Christmas plays.

God bless the killing.
They beseech Him,
“Oh Lord,
as you slew
the sons of Pharaoh
take vengeance upon
the infidels.”

God bless the colors,
absent white and blue,
waving from
every ponderable article and object.

They bow their heads,

“Oh, Lord,
as you suffocated
the enemies of Noah
with the risen waters,
champion our cause,
help us hunt
and slaughter the evil doers.”

The children,
torn,
tattered,
homeless,
fatherless,
motherless,
yet to be
heartless,
own the only glimmer of hope.

COPYRIGHT 2007 by Michael Bonanno

Reproduction of “Glimmer
of Hope” or any part
therein without the
express written permission
of Michael Bonanno is
prohibited unless the
reproduction meets The
Copyright Act “fair use”
doctrine, (title 17, U. S. Code)..

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