DUSKRIVEN, by Keith Kennedy:

Broken teeth reflected
back at me — the axe blade
a mirror — blood on edge and face
both, setting sun a glorified backdrop.
Underfoot, skulls and hearts — the
important parts of men — turned to
mush by marching boots and planted strokes.
In small valleys, blood flows away
churned and frothing,
more pink than red.
The brown earth and
green of the grass
grown mute by contrast.
We raise our heads, eyes and blades
to bellow,
like christened wolves,
calling to the coming moon.

Keith Kennedy writes out of Vancouver, BC where he lives with his wonderful wife, Nancy. He is a screenwriter and novelist and has published horror, sci-fi and fantasy short fiction. Check out his daily rantings at askkeithanything.blogspot.com.

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