UP TWO DAYS STRAIGHT
Up two days straight, this rope is
stretched tight - spanning the gorge
and the garden alike. A wide and
crumbling pile of old bricks bearing
names is just across the way - dated
kilns and brick-baking companies still
seeking memorials in powdered red dust.
Oh quaint all things are, and we trust
those old ways will be. Up two
days straight, I'll have to see.
-
The water flows its way along,
filling those rental gaps of flash
and void in whatever fashion it
chooses or may. I decided to
stand aside and let it go; have
it play its operation in the light
of natural time and day. Up
two days straight, I'll have
to see.
No comments:
Post a Comment