I WENT TO MICHAELMAS
I went to Michaelmas to watch the
homesick people : They were lined
up along the iron fence, awaiting a
gate to be opened. High above me a
sunshine glistened, dripping like the
honey from God's rock 'midst an
excelsior of warmth both sudden
and unexpected. The patter of voice
from the sorrowed and forlorn went
on; and this wasn't even a funeral.
-
Displaced people, perhaps. but aren't
we, really, all? Encampments in minds
of lockstep precision, where in we sit
and wait out our dwelling.
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