Sunday, April 19, 2009

Dawn awakened the farmer

New fields to be broken
Shovel in hand the icy dew
becomes lost
beneath the earth
A patch of holes an early spring sweat
The birds aglow a song of planting
He rests in contemplated love.
Dawn awakens the city man
New deals to be made
Pen in hand the blankness
becomes messages
A race card filled in a train ride
Track smelling dirt
Horses afoot nerves alight
The custodian sits and counts money
Mostly pennies
On the sparkling bath house floor
for the pious Jews
The search for home within himself
The uncontrollable day ahead
Seeds turning sprout
Magic growth beneath the earth
Forging storms bleating winds
Plastic flowers on the table
The canary chirps with spring
A child takes his first swim
and trout get hooked and cooked from the icy pool
Chain gangs funny farms rest homes
awaken with the bells of dawn.
The climb to see the sun from cribs in the wall
Cries of pain to feel some life, pushing upward
To only stand
Buggalooing on the streets
The rhythm taken from the day
Rockin mama on her stoop in prayer of hope
Time to wake the kids to see the day.
Burnt bacon, side of fear
for the unborn.
Clear cold bubbling mountain
Water rushing to the bucket
Inspired afired to create art
He selects his color strokes
And moods to please appease the call
It was a perfect hot sunny Georgia day
When I heard she died
I looked out the window
It was really raining
Thundering lighting
For one minute and then
Back to sunshine
My mother was an Indian
The first hours of waiting were easy
A little flour a few fern tips
A child belly fills up
Then the cries of hunger
The screams of pain
How long can we last
Waiting praying the anxiety of the past
We sat on the path waiting for you
But you had your time speaking no French
Worried sick about us, on foot with a painting
Under your arm. The hunger passes
The light becomes clear.
The spirit strengthens
Shadows appear. The child plays with no fear
And then you are here.
So we go on sticks in hand
Art our teacher love our guide
To the black space ahead
Understood by few
Feared by many
Courage this race
All feathered caps
The baby fruits grow up and down
Flowers signs of hope
The pecan tree bears not this year

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