the volunteer

The Volunteer

From beyond, in the diving valley
where the darkness pools,
sighs a waiting silence.

My words have risen like smoke
into the sky so clear and empty,
I have made this hill my own.

In the village behind me
the evening sounds have faded
and are gone. They too wait.

The day has pulled away,
and taken heat with it, and hope.
This is the kingdom of shadows.

The snaps of twigs and whispers
are loud as thought; they come.
The village light is a glowing ember.

My bonds are tight and the tree
unyielding at my back. My breath
is a phantom like clouds before the moon.

They come, they come, and I alone
to meet them, in this high emptiness.
In a crowd, in darkness, they come.

For me, they come. I pray
for those I saved with the raising of a hand,
with this choice. I pray for speed.

The trees are rustling in the wind.
I am not alone.