Snow white palm, brittle as glass
Red wine sky stained with poison,
Flesh falls in fields of violence while,
Rain taps upon tobacco-stained fingertips
Death, lingers, in the shadows of trees,
Whisps of hair, flutter in steel cold wind.
Youth halted in time; age etched into stone.
Blood infiltrates rivers like milk,
Swirling in tea or coal coloured coffee
The bridge between love and hate crumbles like
Sandcastles under thundering clouds,
Behind mountains of artillery, men break bread
While silken words of homecoming, thread
Through ears like fish in wild waters.
As the yolk yellow sun sets,
Happiness is wrapped in coffins
Of clotted cotton
Written by Lisa Millard