missing the most wanted
they locked down the schools
and called on the bloodhounds
from three counties away
human chains stretched across
the countryside carrying
torches and kicking stones
holding hands they waded into
cedar lake until they could
no longer breathe
throughout the city church lights
enlivened stain glass windows
well into the wee hours of the night
in the morning there was still no news
not counting the posse that
galloped out of town at daybreak
december two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
jdubqca 
Whoa… sort of a crazy tale, but nice details and illustration.
Thanks D.J. – always appreciate your comments and sharing my poetry on twitter 😀
Of course! When the writing’s good, why not share?
intense.
thank you JayMish
This could be that story of a fugitive.. but there could also be something more as a metaphor.. very good poetry here John
Thanks so much, Björn.