Blind To Any Better Dawn Rising

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There is a hope that this farm will feed us
So we planted an orchard full of fruits and nuts
And hope is sometimes misplaced
So we planted another orchard full of fruits and nuts
And you can never quite be sure of anything
So we let the cattails go and the sun-choke grow
And rested in the sweet pockets of uncertainty
Satiated on the mead of not knowing and blind to any better dawn rising

I used to be a writer once
Till August dried me out and left me
Unable to breathe
All before the leaves yellowed

I used to be a poet once
But I could write nothing to out do the crickets
Nor dream of leaping up to the locusts
So I’m left with hope that in winter’s quiet
I might be tricked into confidence again

For now the river bottoms are filled with mosquitoes

9-1-15

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2 thoughts on “Blind To Any Better Dawn Rising”

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