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Poetry
(rd king dot net)poetry and digital art
American Summer
Poems written while traveling.
Ruins
As consciousness persuades the industrious toward mercantile achievement, the mindful ponder their sourceless unrest. Their morning starts in beauty and beauty rubs their chests, rubs our chests. A thought is carried from man to daughter and from son to wife: dragged along the temporal exchange, a thought is carried that rubs our chests. She can now return to the ruined site of what was once her father's grandfather's short-lived life— but the stones have moved apart, his enterprise repealed, his reflections scattered, adrift and unrevealed. back | ToC | next
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