Synopsis


Even infants tread and splash within
the hallowed shallows;
no thoughts, preoccupation with the deeper things;
all as it should be for
children of the Kingdom.
But rather we as Henry Bemis,
wake and rub our blurried eyes
to stare without absorption across all the books,
knowledge we desire to decorate ourselves
and mash the landscape.
From the passing Greyhound's window,
Jesus watched before his dozing off
to squeal of babe,
the poor man's breath,
fears within the silent teen seated in back,
and the subtly numbing,
muffled humming,
of the tires.

Copyright (c) 2007 Gary Brown