Reluctant still as law and neighbor train
upon us: summoned: just another wrong
at Christian hands? We board and cross terrain
we know, then tumble out, a motley throng.
Uncertain aims await us here: we've trucked
with some of these before. But now our case
is left behind, some few belongings tucked
inside. We tread the path the soldiers trace.
They pull us hard apart — a strange resort
of wooden huts. The naked knot constricts
and enters, shoved: we sprawl, relieved, contort
our thoughts to praise the men outside with slicked
hair: our ancient hope in Elohim
resolves to hope in things that dare not seem.
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