What do we do with this darkness,
wanting to forgive but angry at the
unspoken, the tourniquet of unspent
favors, unfavored by God in this moment -
striking stones, snakes coil at that
thought of the meanness of the moment
when we will strike.
But I didn't do it then.
I missed out on the opportunity of a life
of gall, spreading out among all of the
rest of the star-gazers who will likely
look past us all; it will take another trial
before we can see clear, wipe the glass,
the wind that shields us from our feelings.
It's all I can do to start here and now.
A classic approach to others that will now
be molded into the past, into future
dates, schedules locked onto whatever we
can be last at baking in sun scalded items
of our minds, we mind this talk here.
It's only so we can reconcile accounts.
© 2016 Larry Ingram
Welcome to the poetry web site of Larry Ingram. Larry is a poet, writer and observer of our culture.