Dan -- Here's one which derives its inspiration from the words, "buckets
of blood", in your poem, "Stonewall Skyfall". A hat-tip, your way, as
my own "Buckets of Blood" depicts one of the hardships our illustrious
ancestors must have faced.

*

Buckets of Blood

Buckets of blood
on a dry, thirsty sea --
marking a flood,
from which ancients did flee.

Terrified cries
to their gods, in despair --
humble, and wise,
beat their breasts, tore their hair.

Sacrifice made
to appease the unknown --
thrusting the blade
into loved-one, alone.

All was for naught,
as the waters crashed down --
soaring birds fought
for the objects, they found.

Silence now reigned
in a nature, pierced through --
buckets have lain,
as the centuries grew.

Dry ocher blood,
in a landscape, now sand --
silicate flood,
in a serpentine land.

* * *

j. r. martin
3 October 2012