SENTENCE

Passing through the life sentence of another’s pain
He must have arrived beneath the old-growth pegs
Of where the Hawk hangs, having stumbled then
Faltered under the distance of her wings

He must have arrived at the other’s words
As the warden’s sword drew out into the distance
and the firing squad for the deaf and blind squeezed
their triggers, drawing blank looks of flung grimace

as 12 words, for pain or patience, punctured the flesh-
white blankness of this child chained to the charge
of a Minister’s command, his desire sinking into the mix-
ture of charcoal and sand that allows the miles to vanish

the years to depart as the first summer storm rains down