Seeing

Photo by Enric Cruz Lu00f3pez on Pexels.com

There is much talk of sea level right now,
and of levels of the sea; as a boy I would stand,
stare and dream on that far horizon
where all pondered distance was gone.

The boy’s right brain carried more wisdom
than the later indoctrinated left side ever could.
And what drove the world? How did eons
of tides turn hard rock to smooth sand?

For that boy’s curiosity ever remains;
half buried windows along old streets,
the monochrome pictures of grandeur, destroyed

and replaced by boxes of brick, or cold steel and glass.
Sea levels rise and fall, as is nature’s prerogative.
It is not in anyone’s remit to falsify, or destroy.

Copyright Francis 2021

*Earthweal Weekly Challenge

Poem ‘Horizon Line’

 

There is no love on those horizon lines,
nor in the sight of ships
tacking their finite courses to
oblivion, spilling me
outside.

So who is it waiting
in the rain, feels its spots
cool on their skin, can smell
its sweet aroma
off the hard hot road, stretching away
around the lonely coast?

poem and picture © copyright David F. Barker 2012