Good Friday, Bleeding
Blood will have blood, they say; will have sons and lambs
asplay on stone, on wood, on altars stoked for conflagration,
lifeblood stroked on lintels, sacrifices eased by rams
atangle in a thicket. This is such a masculine salvation:
visible, not invisible, flowing where all can perceive it,
where all can be changed or not changed, a carmine storm
that cleanses faces, sins and guilty hands. This is not
the secret blood that smirches thighs and seeps from wombs.
This is a public death, with darkness at noon; but mine
is private, making light the midnight, scouring insides clean.
So here’s the thing. It seems to be wanting to become a sort of a truncated sonnet, with irregular line lengths, but with a definite turn. But it’s missing a quartet and I don’t now what could be added, or how. I’m thinking of posting this in Advanced, but I’m not sure yet whether it’s ready for that forum.
I’d be willing to answer questions, and interested in people’s suggestions for this one.