- by Linn Barnes
Whirl
-Linn Barnes
Whirl will be known
and floods will rise
high ground will crumble
fall and meet the valley
while fleeing naked priests
will scream for protection
to long dead fantasies
neither near nor far
never really found save
in desperate dreams
on lonely sad deathbeds
chiseled into greying stone
to the eternal damnation
of the eyes of man gone blind
to the avarice of the few
who survive since they can
upon the long suffering poor
whose time will surely come.