COLLECTED POEMS AND PAINTINGS - CD Hunter

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Our Children
 

Contain your anger, contain, contain, but
Don’t revet those sinister disputes within,
As walling hate empowers the sullen hand
From where no breaching may begin.

There is no time in this late hour, in
This late world where mouths too frequent
To sustain are forfeited;
Do you not hear the deathly childrens’ hymns?
Orphaned by the adults whom they trust.

Contain your mind, contain, contain, it’s
Only with death’s clarity shall we repair
To know this heartless world we endure

To know it by the numbering of the dead.

 

18 Dec 1999