O, lost, and by the wind grieved, ghost come back again.
--Thomas Wolfe, Look Homeward Angel.
I.
The City and the Sand
The City Sleeps and I'm not there.
It wakes and I'm gone.
The City of God is fragile now,
Its towers gone,
Its ghosts are in its flowers.
In the desert, life is always harsh.
I watch a young snake
escape my gaze.
A vulture watches me.
We must repair our rituals,
the bird and I agree.
The city and the sand
are serious enough,
but our hearts are free.
II
Fear of Flying
I send my daughters to New York
for the holidays ("One of America's great destination spots")
worrying that like soldiers going off to war,
they may not return.
The necessary angel has arrived
and we live like the rest of reality now:
no comfort in fantasy or fact,
only the haunting hangover of dreams,
only regret.
III
The Cave
I spent the night in a cave once
(under a rock ledge, really).
I’d lost my bearings on a hike.
Plato used the cave as a metaphor
For the limitations of human insight.
For me it was just a form of
Security in an endless night.
As it happened, I had matches for
A fire, a can of tuna and some bread
I was lost, but I was dry and I was well fed.
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copyright 2007 by Larry L. Dill