July 30, 2012
Monday Poem
There is no defense for a man who, in the excess of his wealth,
has kicked the great altar of Justice out of sight. —Aeschylus
Drought
Having done their green work
the grasses say to the sky,
We thirst
The sky is blue and silent,
clouds tease. They slide
silently under a brilliant sun
hoarding their wealth
they are the Himalayas of heaven
cold and distant,
imperious,
proud of their majesty,
their volume,
joining and unjoining their vapors
among their kind alone
holding it to themselves
they are vacant
as an empty page
void
while the grasses
need psalms of moisture
they billow above dry prairies
counting their vaulted droplets
saving whole seas for their own
rainy day
by Jim Culleny
7/29/12
Posted by Jim Culleny at 12:25 AM | Permalink
Comments
Brilliant, Jim! My favorite part:
saving whole seas for their own
rainy day
Thank you.
Posted by: Abbas Raza | Jul 30, 2012 5:29:09 AM
A lovely poem for all of us in this thirsty land.
Posted by: Ann Applegarth | Jul 30, 2012 10:37:37 AM
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