Jericho Joshua

after great sorrow, i have no time to hate
as the stillness of such assault cannot aid me
to conceal in death that which in life
attires me with the fashion of stolen ages.
this is the hour of lead when eternity spins
a predestined web of yours and mine
tossed out yonder in the inky brine.
homesick eye yearns behind the shelf of heaven
to glimpse the scarlet scarf before sounds
the pitieous purge of Jericho Joshua’s horn.