Ancient Art

 
seasons
 

 Two hammers rang out

with dull metallic thud,

first one, then another,

then both.

 

Sweat dripped, running into the holes,

soiling their work,

wetting rough spikes,

making their journey smooth.

 

Raising It into place, Its beauty struck

with the brutal impact used to form It.

Its grotesqueness ran red over the hill;

Its shadow stretched out--beyond belief.

 

His body jumped,

fingers scratching at bloody spikes,

blood stained eyes

creeping open on a now pure white world,

 

He died.

 

by Eugene C. Scott

circa 1984


Eugene C Scott is a poet, photographer, and pastor. As a writer, he has published articles and a short story in various journals. As a pastor, he has ministered in seven different churches and is now Executive Pastor at Wellspring Church in Englewood, CO.

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