a journey of awareness
Cincinnati, Arkansas They were no longer counting the zombies. One survivor carefully raked gravel. One peach blossomdropped down without causing ripples. But where had it come from? It was as if a drop of blood had fallen into the well. Purity of expression, as Arkansans knew, transcended race. They smiled without smiling, because without thought, there’d be nothing for the fallen to feast upon. The young believed the dead were not dead, but college-graduated for service at multiple jobs. Once rigor mortis set in, it became harder to arrange hands in prayer. The preacher broke some knees with a metal mallet.[Disposable Poem November 20,2013]Dr. Mike
Cincinnati, Arkansas
ReplyDeleteThey were no longer counting
the zombies. One survivor
carefully
raked gravel. One peach blossom
dropped down without causing
ripples.
But where had it come from? It was
as if a drop of blood had fallen
into the well.
Purity of expression, as Arkansans knew,
transcended race. They smiled
without smiling,
because without thought, there’d be nothing
for the fallen to feast upon.
The young believed
the dead were not dead, but college-graduated
for service at multiple jobs.
Once rigor mortis set in,
it became harder to arrange hands in prayer.
The preacher broke some knees
with a metal mallet.
[Disposable Poem November 20,2013]
Dr. Mike