Witching Hour Haikus

Her words were written
upon hearts as on tombstones;
cold, hard, deep, final.

“Teach a man to fish”
they say, as if they don’t own
every river.

Streets cobbled with skulls
and anthems of unheard screams—
parade of empire.

He clung to belief
as if a shipwreck’s flotsam,
but t’was the iceberg.

They all vowed she was
the salt of the earth, and so
she salted the earth.

Firstborn of Egypt,
did not you die innocent
as God’s other Son?

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