Wednesday, November 8, 2017

Poem with Saxophone

People try so hard to make it through the day,
Listless sheets of feeling, like stains along the road,
The heart would break for every face if you let it,
The unreachable, individual madnesses,
The brave in not knowing, the strong in being wrong,
Forbearing themselves without forgiveness,
Wanting others without a way to trust,
Sensing mercy in the turning of machines,
Chasing information like the sniff of cheese
In a mess of tossed-off messages, in the fuss there is with silence,
With the will to twist the surface noise to story
And hold shame in suspense to a “then what?” response,
But this merges with the bubbling fountains and moving engines,
Becomes a larger structure, clattering with patterns,
Something for the palm fronds to comprehend
And for the sun to waft through the mesquite fingers a tune,
What the lantana plays on the saxophone to hands of blue agave. 

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