The Golden Rule
Listen to the songbirds
Trill
But keep an eye
On the buzzard section.
The glass is not half-full
I saw our dreams
Disappear
Like a white pony
Over
A low grassy hill.
It's Getting Crowded
We cover the earth
With Venn Diagrams
As our steps
Bisect old steps.
Limits
We like to believe
We could endure anything for five minutes
But that theory, cooked up
In your hermetic study or bedroom,
Comes apart at the seams
When you imagine being on fire
Or having crows feast
Upon your eyes.
Surviving
Salvation lies
In remaining unblinded
To the treachery
Massing around you:
The enemy without,
Calculating your fall
And the traitor within,
Beating in your chest.
---o0o---
No comments:
Post a Comment