The sounds of boot steps, marching,
pounding in my ears, hundreds,
perhaps thousands, locked
in unison, thudding on stones,
staining in the blood on streets,
life force pouring down lit avenues
and darkened alleyways, marching
to a song of violence, a drumbeat,
the tattoo of the mind, un-thinking
in unison, the lords and hordes
of violence rush forward, feeding
upon themselves, drinking themselves
intoxicated, consuming impieties
and impulses, boot-steps formless
and deep, the wave crashing
upon the golden shore, the wave
edged in silver needles.
So I heard a sermon Sunday on Proverbs 1:8-18, and my notes included words like violence, siren song, marching. Coincidentally, the One Word Blog Carnival today has a prompt of “marching,” Peter Pollock is hosting the carnival, and you can read more posts at his site.
This poem is also submitted to Open Link Night at dVerse Poets. The links will be live at 2 p.m. Central time today.
Photograph: Marching by Sharon Apted via Public Domain Pictures. Used with permission.