Open Poetry #46 |
The Hills and Somewhere After |
Tomer Senior Member
since 2002-06-28
Posts 1168Michigan |
They looked onward with hopeless eyes, The way the fallen do when their last Sips of water can no longer surmise The feeling of their lips Against the cold, brittle night As they shared the hostel, One by one, a ceiling -10 feet high, Around the sides of each door Around the dreams of the heaven scorn, They dreamt of another time, Where their shadows would Be that of a kings rich title, And their clothes would Catch the eye of the boutiques down the isle. They kept searching for a silent night Where their words could be heard Along the spacious, inescapable night. Their thoughts trembled Like the aches of their stomach As the channels of the river flew In the back of their minds, The back of grandiose thoughts Of being rich and soulful Beyond the everyday sacrifice of the working people. But here they stood With their children latching for air, Reaching for food As the kitchen cupboards resembled an island so empty Only the sky could submit that they were still there. It was a boat and a dream, A chance to be On the other side of the restless heat, A chance to see another sight Besides the long winded farm That their grandparents worked on. It was the dream, And that in itself Will always be remembered. |
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