"Steeples"
By Chris Madsen
i don’t pray, though
these knees have rested
on red velvet tuffets
reading stained glass stories
the sun burning my face.
not absent of faith,
skeptical belief,
what if steeples
stood taller than all?
those men in high towers
looking down on us all
exalting stocks, reeking
greed, methamphetamines.
our truth, the new wisdom
live-streamed,
just to believe in
something momentarily,
until the next, and the next.
they’re all getting undressed.
can we pause, rewind
lay weary bones on the cold earth
eyes on the horizon
with only steeples
standing taller than trees?
Chris Madsen is a former Scout Sniper and US Army Veteran. Read more of his writing here.
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