2019-05-03
by
Eleanor Goldfield
Rain drops on vacant rooftops
revolutionaries caught in a storm -
whispered conversations echoing
never alone in our loneliness -
remembered stories and forgotten quotes -
feelings felt that linger nameless -
but hit you in the sternum like shooting stars
night skies filtered thru light pollution
smog that dances dreams that smell like smoke screens
mirrors that show us who we might have been
a wrong turn down the right road
a left signal veers us from a dead end -
round we are and back again -
forward march and time's long arc -
bending as it does to us -
hands made clean by dirt and earth -
made dirty by our need to work -
labors of love left simmering -
synapse closed til further note -
a night watch guard box sentinel sold -
how much to park myself here?
In a lot of bothered souls -
excited by the burs of hope -
spurred on by our imagined homes -
not lost – too terribly found -
foundations creak in ready destinies -
all empires fall -
and where do we lie -
the truth is what we build tonight -
in gale force winds we hoist a kite -
discomfort like our best torn jeans -
pulled on with rebel ease -
will I see you in these unnamed places -
wave to you in blackout spaces -
kiss you without touching faces -
honored to be low,
high off a deep dive -
let's roll.