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Recalled
#1
Recalled

Long after there were none of them alive
About the place – where there is now no place
But a walled hole where fruitless vines embrace
Their parent skeletons that yet survive

In evil thorns – none of us could arrive
At a more cogent answer to their ways
Than one old Isaac in his latter days
Had humor or compassion to contrive.

I mentioned them, and Isaac shook his head:
“The Power that you call yours and I call mine
Extinguished in the last of them a line

That Satan would have disinherited.
When we are done with all but the Divine,
We die.” And there was no more to be said.
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