REFUGE

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The air is thick
The ground is wet
Minds are in confusion
Bodies are in hock

The sky is bright
The ground is red
The minds are confused
The bodies are drained

The air is loud, like a lion's roar
The smell is smoke
Refuge is here
Death is there

Death is proud
Life is lost
In the blink of an eye
Or the pull of a finger.

April 26, 1996

POETRY: 1996-2005Where stories live. Discover now