Thursday, April 28, 2011

Without Sky

With nothing to look up to, we all lay down
in the dust and in the rocks and wondered
where we had gone wrong.  One of us stared
at the horizon’s wall for several hours, quietly
smashing his head against it until his skull
cracked and little brown rivulets of blood
and brain mingled with the thirsty earth.
And one of us forget her name and gave up
any sense of herself, and pretended she was
an unseen flower and drifted away, into
the darkness.  And one of us saw that sky
was once a thing that held the heavens,
where the sun and stars and eternal blackness
lived, and which, being gone now, meant
that all our dreams were rooted in the earth,
but were unrooted because without
sun no roots could grow.  And so we
sat around and pondered, eyeless, blank
as heart-attacks, the horror our dreamlessness,
of being entirely bound to the dust from
whence we came and the dust we will be.

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