Sonnet of a Hopeless Reactionary

YES, I will follow, as indeed I must,
Since no man against time may stand alone,
Toward that arson which you call The Dawn,
Where men cry plenty, snatching at the crust,
And, mouthing love, embed the traitorous thrust,
Accurate, final, between bone and bone.
I will be there, but let me pause for one
Last backward look at all I know and trust.
There was a homesick woman long before
Who dared to linger on the desert track,
Her breast advanced, her eyes turned briefly back.
O God of mercy and of wrath, once more
Punish with peace the obstinate, loyal fault,
And sculpture my recalcitrance in salt.