I balance myself
Poured in among the wavy limestone
Artificial concrete arteries
Disappearing into the trodden hills
No longer used and crumbling above the ocean
And where is my heart
Perched atop the weary fortresses
Crawling through these misty hills
In ages past
Men peered from here each bone-cold morning
And tried to distinguish the shape of the horizon
Hills
Am I to be spread over you like dust
Flapped over by crows
And still punctured by spray painted concrete
Is my heart being worn down
Is my heart being worn down
Tumbling down the cliffs
To land at my feet
Monday, October 12, 2009
Written In The Marin Headlands
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I don't know , but i like the direct address to hills.
ReplyDeleteyour poems can't be read in the same time as 100s are usually read, so who knows how good this feedback is