deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Dusty Trail Round My Bend
A shame, tis that crushed gravel path
that's seldom footstep riddled,
where bicycle tires perspire tamed tread so little
A path where timid animal tracks
are spread thin,
a vapid vastness cast between flocks
atop
ground that sees only squirrels indifferent
and confused ants entranced
by stone hill queens
on that life lean walk, crushing
I'm shocked,
for a spot
with so few dropping leaves
and so few blades of grass for frost to freeze,
so few birds or bees,
to be so lonely, pointless
If only the sculptors had known it
But any deemed annoyance, bones now
in a place
where wildlife shouldn't be bonus
Where you see the odd dog leashed,
branches, twigs and sticks kept neat,
life erroneous
A path hugged by slatted seats, begonias,
bathrooms and beaches
sprinkled with spaces for stinted feet
to lay or unfold seats
neath sun, far from busy streets,
enjoy it please
Limestone laid where once
were blossoming trees,
possums picking at peaches,
common critters now known
as niche in
lands, once rock to sand,
only empty ear canals now
too proud to scream, listening
for scarce whisper along gaseous breeze
to harshly echo down scorched earth
so a dainty few feel appeased
and it feels cold
complaining near rotting corpses of old
To speak of hunger here, of feelings
unwell, be
to mock majesty's shell,
smell of decay made me lose that bold
A desolate frame of wonder
that only wished to help and be helped
and
to be a mother
Now,
more hollow than dry throats after
swallows of sand in summer
Gray rock, topped with life asunder
This path an outcast
cept for some indifferent squirrels,
confused ants
sifting through twisted blunder
and riddles
of footsteps
that's seldom footstep riddled,
where bicycle tires perspire tamed tread so little
A path where timid animal tracks
are spread thin,
a vapid vastness cast between flocks
atop
ground that sees only squirrels indifferent
and confused ants entranced
by stone hill queens
on that life lean walk, crushing
I'm shocked,
for a spot
with so few dropping leaves
and so few blades of grass for frost to freeze,
so few birds or bees,
to be so lonely, pointless
If only the sculptors had known it
But any deemed annoyance, bones now
in a place
where wildlife shouldn't be bonus
Where you see the odd dog leashed,
branches, twigs and sticks kept neat,
life erroneous
A path hugged by slatted seats, begonias,
bathrooms and beaches
sprinkled with spaces for stinted feet
to lay or unfold seats
neath sun, far from busy streets,
enjoy it please
Limestone laid where once
were blossoming trees,
possums picking at peaches,
common critters now known
as niche in
lands, once rock to sand,
only empty ear canals now
too proud to scream, listening
for scarce whisper along gaseous breeze
to harshly echo down scorched earth
so a dainty few feel appeased
and it feels cold
complaining near rotting corpses of old
To speak of hunger here, of feelings
unwell, be
to mock majesty's shell,
smell of decay made me lose that bold
A desolate frame of wonder
that only wished to help and be helped
and
to be a mother
Now,
more hollow than dry throats after
swallows of sand in summer
Gray rock, topped with life asunder
This path an outcast
cept for some indifferent squirrels,
confused ants
sifting through twisted blunder
and riddles
of footsteps
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