Sunday, September 1, 2013

Escape Route


Hillsides hold rivers on course
even as the rivers wear them away.

Tree limbs stretch higher every year
even as their roots dig deeper underground.

What holds us in place
creates the way of our escape.

1 comment:

  1. “Noli timere” -- Seamus Heaney

    When Virgil descended into Hell, did he meet
    Any poets among the nameless, unburied corpses
    Who wrote with too much spirit and honesty
    Ever to be published in their lifetime?

    Those still living in capitalism have to purchase
    The right to a funeral and trust somebody
    Will see to the will you wrote, giving
    All possessions to school and community.

    Where money can buy anything, it’s all about
    What can you get without paying full price?
    A whole younger generation is looking for work
    While elderly rattle begging cups outside refugee camps.

    [Disposable Poem September 2, 2013]
    Dr. Mike

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