Eye Of The Son Poem by Carolynn Shaw

You say the gods packed up and left,
stripped the trees of zinc and spit
green into the waters

Just before dusk folded into night.
The time of shadows - that mingle
and fall on themselves

Stealing hope from sky and men.
It's a dark future you speak of -
built on speculation and bitterness

Contingent on resurrection of the dead.
Slurring your way through sunrise,
I see you are glaring through a mad mans eye.