Lights Upon The Shore


Dour winking
here I'm sinking
and mute, you're thinking

thoughts so surely moored
turning, heading toward
the future, ever forward
of which, oceans bored

but they're just so neat and stacked
under feet, so hewn and hacked
grown through sidewalk streets, thundercracked
oh, this beat, again untracked,
oh, this heat, no doubling back

what more now can seep this fire
through voices steeped in blazing choir
piled up deep amid tepid mire
these we keep, our battle dire
both, we weep, of ideas we tire.