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Open Poetry #27

GW-1

Michael G
Senior Member

since 2000-06-25

Posts 579
Nashville

0 posted 2003-06-12 01:53 AM

Opening the gates of yesterday,
to see the light fade from my
eyes and languish in the dust
upon my boots. Clogged dirt, red
cacked in the hardness of the earth
that carries itself along my
body, that no amount of water
may ever fully cleanse me.
The pale light of the sky, amber
trails of solitude that relent
to my imagination. Home is far
from me once more, the boards of
a house, the lawn I must cut.
Far from me are the troubles
of city things, were upon the only
traffic I find are the ants
meandering along the path of food.
The first star of the eve, and I
weep for the next as the cracking
sound blazes past my ear. Hours I have
not slept, days really, and
now I must remember, my place,
my purpose. Blood travels strange
along a path in the ground like some
perverse river, only to be stopped
by its own clotting. Another star I see,
and I belong to the night, to the missery
of gun residue on my face, the sand and
sweat through my clothes. Open my eyes
and I dream of home, and were did you
live? Where did you belong before
we became enemies on your ground?
Ruthless indignities must surrender a
I have my heart to the pain that will
never leave of a time past, not forgotten.

garysgirl