Tick Tock
I see them all...
Tick,
those that push:
nearest the humble earth,
mighty in purpose and birth,
kept so far from the "victory,"
they helped achieve.
Tick
those that triumph;
stepping on human shoulders,
willing or otherwise,
screams, cries, soldiers, lies
the sky is their domain.
Tick
those along for the ride...
slow, confident, moral majority,
moving, surging, desperate hope,
that one more year, harvest, pope,
can reshape destiny, light up the dark.
Tick
those that found no comfort in groups;
defecting from the thrown down gods,
unable to join the rising tide,
spirit stone cold, they cannot abide,
should have died with the others.
Tock
for all of them must choose,
while the pendulum swings.
nice poem with joy of childhood
ReplyDeleteJoy
I look forward to reading your poetry ... and you never disappoint.
ReplyDeleteAll those ticks and no tock? :-)
ReplyDeleteWonderful...and oh that last line...
ReplyDeleteIn my mind, it sounds like the Greek gods were out to play or narrating a play scene. Nice!
ReplyDelete