Into God’s own acres and furrowed earth, I trespassed
Where plowshares dug and cold clod crumbled-
No gas fumes here, no dark oil stains!
But, marks of feet and hooves-
Amid the towheaded stubble and dun-colored soil,
Amid the gnarled trees, stood the altar to one side.
Stacked wood in symmetric arrays,
Abraham’s altar waited for the holocaust.
But, where is the thicket, the tangled bramble?
Where is the scapegoat waiting to be spied –
And slaughtered?

Bemused, I walk away in thorny muddle
Until I witnessed many more wood stacks!