Death looked upon the broken child –
th’pale-grey of rubble caked her skin.
“And Israel stretched out his right-hand…”
Giving the child a grin,
he placed her atop his shoulders
to look upon her shattered home.
“Jacob has loosed his angels’ ire!
D’you see God in th’pillars of fire
that make this land their own?
No god but me” (Death said to her.)
“and Hatred is my messenger.”
Image credit – Baldwin
william altoft 