An acrostic sonnet
By Nancy Roche
Rexburg, ID, USA
Just and unjust step we onwards, wise men.
Endless night around us and our chosen,
Shifting course. Alone we face the frozen
Umbra, sure we’re ever fallen again.
Save our footsteps, only shadows sound here;
The silence leaves us lonely with our thoughts
Halfway thought, and then abandoned. The dots,
Each footprint, our ellipsis dogged by fear.
Choose your course against the winds of terror.
Hold steady in the killing cold of sin.
Rise up, a hand is stretched out even in
Impenetrable shade of our error.
Snow, lit from beneath, glistening, and white:
The color of each soul He bought that night.