The Time That God Walks

why does deliverance feel like the old woman's jagged fingernails digging in the dirt? while poetry screams from weeping willows and dead spiders... light finds it way through crack and crevice, dancing in the little boy's palm! there is a song that dwells in things that seem most still. graveyards come alive in the dead of night. and streetlights write history on streets deserted and quiet. while lamps shine in closed windows as a testament to memory. this is the time that god walks, her long hair grey with suffering. and stopping on the corner she lights a smoke, while stray cats rub against her bony legs. 'if only they had drank the cup of suffering, they would have known! ' she puts out her smoke, and starts sweeping away bodies!