It is a wild place beyond the town wall:
the moment between moments when the blade
slits these two in their shifts into saints,
one already to his eternity of Hallelujah,
the other, Josias, James, brave before the blow.
Their faces say they thought as much.
Hooded, the two officials barely look,
each the shamefaced witness of the other,
come to see the job done, sign the paper,
make their report and turn into stones.
At the centre the executioner in black,
the ballet of his legs dancing to the blade.