WE WHO FEAR

We stand upon a hill with nothing green,
We stare at visions, ghostly and grotesque,
The icy jab of sudden panic strikes
And we are numb to joy,
And dead with pain.

There is no living for us when we fear,
The earth is black and clutches at our feet.
We grope with shaking fingers, white 
And desperate,
At stars a million aching years away.

			Lucille Hamilton