stepping back from an edge sharp with attempts
after scaling up and over to a subsequent stage
his tired eyes avert his own callous reflection
if only he allowed this sweeping sanction
to loosen within his torso
he would be handed acquiescence
when he stands looking out
forward across the empty plains
upward to the softening, velvet sky
and back to his past of vacant realities
his eyes drop down
from a segmented purpose
and he is puzzled with pieces of his life
spliced together in selfish haste
if he continues trudging onward
with the stride that wakes him each morning
with the trust that wraps its arms
around his smiling children
his reflection will become whole
his vision, a bronzed speculation
his puzzle, an unadulterated home
I am getting to understand the temptation that leads commenters to just say "I like this"...
ReplyDeleteBut as a poster myself, I have a hard time valuing comments like that.
Sure, I'm glad a stranger liked whatever I've posted, but all things considered, unless they say why or unless the comment is from someone I know (or whose work I know), it has but little meaning for me.
So I won't say I like this (even though I do), instead I'll just say that it brings an unformed story to the back of my mind, like the half-remembered memory of something I've never seen.