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The Winnowing

The Winnowing

is nigh. I heard the voices calling
in the night
				I sensed the stream of ones &
zeros   flickering soundlessly. The
keening word has been given    handed
down from on high
					How many, out of
how many? How many, out of how
many? Invisible voices chant the
question    delirious with fear and desire
Soon   the scythe will sing its song
										Spooky
understands    
				Spooky will speak to us
soon
		The winnowing begins
Soon

–Michael Lindgren


Poetry

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