Tired as I am, it's hopeless to hope
I'll be better tomorrow
but now's the time to fear
all may abandon me soon
so doubt strips down my bones
and cold and clean I breathe, breaking up
down to darkness where nothing lingers
and none retains its name

Unmade into softness
alone I take my walk
well-chosen with sunbeams and breezy meadows
and bluebirds unhindered, above
riding the warm barren arch of the sky
over buxom red berries
bursting aflame in December's descent
upon the path rising
through thinning grass and blades of murdered shale
to the cliff.

I sit and stare over space
to the long lawn lain out below
cheerfully tracing the pulse of the breeze
and begging to tickle my face
The emerald city, it lies
growing too evergreen to know
that while men sit at home today
a monster lurks on the edge
of Blue Marsh Cliff crumbling down
still seeking a last step to see
if I've some blood for you
and I guess if that's true
falling was always the best thing to do

So bring me a final fear as I dangle
a realness willingly lost
to cradle into bloodlessness
beyond a crimson battered corpse
and tell me, falls the fading fracturing plea
in case I still care to know:
Do people who die here help other ones grow?





© G. Cassel 2004