Sunday, December 12, 2010

POEM: "Summer Winds"

Summer Winds

I do think of ancient fields somewhere
Stubbled, greyfrosted, with granite tors
The children might have measured
Contemplating the assault approach
And how eventually to sit on top

From slammed doors and shouting
Running from the last killed dream
After a battle surveying the plains
The number of misbegotten engagements
Decimation was not their homework

Invisible, victorious regiments 
Pennants waving, crows collected
Debating loudly half the afternoon
Just what sacrifice means in this world
What a raucous celebration of tears

Ambushed from most sides by doubt
Skeering from sorrow and other angers
If you love, then do not love your days
It is right that feelings cannot change things
Or else half the world would be in flames.

© 2010 Rob Schackne

No comments:

Post a Comment