TRIPTYCH

Whom at the first we kill
(angel that bears us truth
immediate and ill;
hound of the warning tooth):
lay truths as towered walls,
bite like the warden beaver:
in our unpictured cells
guard us for ever.

Whom in the end we keep
(ikons of Self and Why
and You; the names of hope
named indefensibly):
people our small belief,
our dusk of single vision:
to us a mask for grief;
to you unreason.

Whom all the time we are
(shells of the unborn child,
the uncaged ancestor;
paths in a poisoned field):
through neither wall nor mask
let us observe and pity:
our neighbour in the dusk,
our frightened city.