Wind whipping,
rain slipping
and not enough to wash
and drain the blood
in this house in Oklahoma.
No, never could there be enough
to clean the blood on that blouse.
Sin for sin,
buying bread for gold.
Things keep slipping
and twisting
deeper into this hold.
Not enough blood to spill,
never to clean.
Scarlet and purple outlining
just a cross and crown
just downsizing
an empty house.
Waiting.
Waiting.
For that still small voice
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
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