Mirrors, Mirrors

Steel mirrors strung together
With breadths of razor wire.
Dull light flashing back and forth
Carries whispers from the mire.
Soft songs, old blood dreams
Memories of faith, fear, and fire.
Remembrance unsullied by time
Caught between steel and wire.

The Fingers of Old Men

Red berries in the white snow,
Pure, pristine, immaculate
Lie along red branches,
Bunched, twisted, and coiled,
Like the gnarled fingers of old men.