We paraded across foreign soil
Like tiny American ants:::
Driving:walking:stopping:posing:talking
The sky hung like a low, hollow barrier
And we willed the sun to penetrate
The solid cloud cover.
Beneath our blooming umbrellas we snapped
Digital flashes across damp fields,
Our pupils round and black
And empty at a distance.
As the rain receded
We retraced our steps across
The tired gray scape, no longer
Concerned with the weather
Or the mud on our shoes.
No comments:
Post a Comment