by Richard Schnap
I hear the sound
Of drums approaching
Beating a rhythm
From the distant past
Down a ghostly road
That’s been reopened
To slither beneath
A bloodstained dawn
And in the wind
Come a thousand voices
Cheering the arrival
Of a man I’ve met before
Speaking a language
Of fashionable hatred
Designed to enshrine him
In the temple he’s rebuilt
Richard Schnap is a poet, songwriter and collagist living in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. His poems have most recently appeared locally, nationally, and overseas in a variety of print and online publications.