I NEVER FOUND
I never found your glorious moment;
it went the way of the wind. Over the
top of that was this : One hundred and
seventy feet of sheer rock. Oh how I'd
love to jump.
-
Cars whizzing by were harmless, and
more a danger to themselves than us.
It reminded me of View Master scenes
from when I was young.
-
Like fingers, the riverway dug through
the land : Coasting and gouging, one
hundred plus years of logs, boards,
and timber had floated through here.
I could tell by the dead, who were tired.
-
Minisink? A battle? A field? Distant fogs
rolling in could have done no better at
blocking reality now from my face. I
don't believe in dead Indians, and
Colonists leave no trace.
No comments:
Post a Comment