Greyrock Point

There’s a bridge over
Troubled water somewhere
Between here and
The mark of Absolution.
In good tidings
In good, warm memory
But the fear remains--
Dead in the eyes
Of birds in their nests
On Angel Point.
Wrought iron beams
Mayhem in the night
And the cicadas sing.
Stuck on the train tracks
Three hundred feet
Closer to God--
Closer to the end of All.