Indeterminate 

The boy became a silence

And bowed his head

Hands prayer-raised

As if to ward off blessing

Fingers paced and raw

Urgently touching god

For this god was flesh

Bourne upon the sadness

Like a bon-voyage

Here waited this young one

And without the convenience

Of a timeless future

Became a toneless march

For here they bent around this tiny skull

Mourners replete with grief

Announcing their presence

Noisily in the sand

With an alien wetness

Some wondered how long

Like crowds before the lions

Willing the end

Screaming for a morsel

Until at last

Eased by the silence

They grasped in wayward glances

At other faces

And stepped into the next death