Sunday, August 27, 2017

Hope will Serve

Hope will Serve

A slow start with other intentions
like a walk on the banks of the Madison or the Green,
but still, if memory serves, thats been done before
and if rock serves as the best foundation,
Then our only hope will serve as silt bills at the lee of the bend, miles away.
Meanwhile,
this small house rests here, in the desert, with an abundance of soft stone.

At night, the rats in this house shiver
looking to the floors for deliverance from the cold outside.
Right now, though, this peach dawn turns to pale silver
and tufts of tall grass rise from new snow, brown and frosted.
Tiny eyes rollback, faint, and the long wait begins again
for all in this house on cold, dry stone.

Dry sand is poor mortar for joining rough stone-
but work we will for very little pay in our fathers broken house.
Having paid for honey, bleached sugar-
Having bought meat, irradiated soy-
Having purchased wine, Diet Coke-
But baking sands and sandstone mesas shelter a few flies
on far-off, long summer days as the house still falls in.

Long ears and bored teeth turn toward wrath
as scorn heaped upon these shelters, even as centuries of dust,
weighs roofs down and floors pile high
so that steps and thoughts are heavy as wells collapse
taking dreams of loaves and mountain fishes into the dry earth-
But still, clouds still gather over the shimmering, gray mountains
and winter will switch places again with summer;

too soon, too soon.

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