feast or famine

with the light
of the new day
he began
his fasting
knowing surely
that the gates
of heaven
had opened
but
wondered if
those of hell
were closed tight
for war
was all around
he could hear
the sounds
of death’s cruel voice
wailing throughout the day
embraced by dry desert winds
while
the songs
and
promises of peace
were
as empty as the plate
before him

© 2015, poem and photograph, Charles W. Martin, All rights reserved

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