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The city of process, oregon
by Donald Standeford Dawn's gloom breaks The endless sky, a purple haze Hanging in horizon Of our progress, a levy, Pools of dark water Rippling lake, Waters of the soul, Hazy images, weariness; I search for you, Eyes separated by a big div- Ide, cliffs sliding into The Pacific Sea, Saltwater crashing, Shaking the rocks Below the big blue sky, Heaven's depths clouded Giant feet of God stepping To Earth in sandaled toes, Hips in cold outer space, Where vacuum roars In your ears, Tiny circles of light focus, Fade like car's headlights, Interweaving thru streets, Tiny amidst stone houses; And life flows to culverts, Into city gutters, trickles Onto cliffs to the open sea; There people are hard seeds, People of the mind, standing Alone in their solitude, People of the Earth, embryos Unfolding inside its seed coat, Disambiguated, let loose on the land, The wonder The city scape, A culvert near the horrible cliffs, high Houses on the Southern Hills, Tenants on terraces near city streets; The race of traffic swoops from West Through South to Eastern sands. Don V Standeford http://www.donstandeford.com Article Source: http://www.faithwriters.com |