Thursday, July 5, 2007


Aloof on a pile of cobblestones
Extracted from years in the field
The ground remains sterile
Without its requirement to yield
Leaning fenceposts with sharpened pikes
Slumber in long rows
Struggling to recall past memories
Nearby the almond tree grows
Shards of wheat seem to flow
As Northern winds blow
A tingling on one side of my face
'Tis a reminder of past storms
Close watch over stirring skies
Attention paid to cloud swarms
Out of the untrusting eye
I see a crooked jaw in
The formation of the clouds
The undistrubed sun conceals itself
I still know it has an angry brow
Rattling fenceposts warn me
Of approaching encroachments
That follow worn out pathways
Which lead to my secret place
Never has an interuption made itself known
Should it occur I will know to flee
Squatting down low in the grasses
Concealing myself from
That which may desire to
Conceal its presence from me
Yay-though the fence row leans
It still struggles to keep its borders
Prying eyes cannot survive here
Fear drives it from falling in the way
Of the quiet times that live here
Only the cobblestone know I am present
Duly accounted for in the roll call
While the almond tree continues to flourish
Amongst the metaphors that are planted in fields

© 2007 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved

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