sounding out story
unlikely glory found
on a street disrepute
where fists pounded rage
provoking blade and thrown
bloodied shirt to the dirt
i saw the hand hold the piece
cracks unleashed
nonchalant to the air
and i saw the Hand choke back
with resolve any harm
meant for here
more of the story
finds you next day
clearing dross from
the derelict lot down the way
your hands became four
became six and then eight
ten or twelve took the space for clean
fun being missed
next day came force
with another ten, twelve
stretching out weapons in charge
charged with offenses a few
put away but root-stretched
abides the illicit
i still witness hands
bent lawless and listen
to voices hurl hate
and i still expect the Hand
that is boundless to heal
and to heave away pain
sounding out story
soon coming glory found
on a street wholly new
- c. l. atkinson
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