Even when themoving eyes
Effect theircoyness of denial
The watching moonwas my witness
The scorching sunalso autographed
The sweeping rainleft uncertain scars
The scattering winggarnered nothing
From thefour-corners
"Don’t we havepeople up there?"
I asked the ageingfather
The ageing breathchorused misery
"We arewalking without legs, my child."
Was after a l-o-n-gl-o-n-g silence
My heart becamebusy…
"And we climbthe ladder without the rungs."
And my being wasstill-life
"God wards offthe tormenting flies
For the tail-lesscow."
That tilted mypassive aggression
That He steers theman
And not the peopleup there.
