Faye Sizemore

BLEAK HORIZON

On the horizon the church spires
are stark against the sky
The bell towers are empty and silent
and here is the reason why
They melted down all the bells
to make cannon balls
to create their own little hells
The pigeons now gather there
and multiply without a care
while below the hollow-eyed
wander… lamenting still… they cried
‘What we did was all so wrong…
for the cannonballs… unlike the bells
can never sing God’s song…’