We Never Go There

I heard the song of hope sung
When I was young and strong and helpless
Before the sound of the engines of war
Filled the ears of another and another generation
Waiting for the promise -- before the words
Were forgotten in preambles and death marches
And holy visions of someone else’s tomorrows.
I heard the sparrow waiting for its turn
When the world turned away from us to
Fill itself with black water and dust in our eyes.
What’s going on? The plastic dreams
Rising through blue skies and failed accomplishments
Intended for someone else’s grandchildren…they never came.

"I heard the sparrow waiting for its turn
When the world turned away from us to
Fill itself with black water and dust in our eyes"

Beautiful poem. I love this.

mg

mg,

You focus on the specific turn in the piece where the speaker shifts from political polemics to poetic vision. Good work.

amo,

Peter

Thank you, Peter.