Friday, September 27, 2013

Apprentice in the Sun

A certain harm had come over them,
so daily life was a bit of a struggle.
They were in a spot of bother, and it showed
in their weathered features. Perhaps
some moisturizer or a rifle butt. The day
moved along in swift chunks. By nightfall
all the miracles of paralyzation went on for decades.
There is a sweetness to raw honey that burns the throat.
Out in the morning again, singing about, they
loved life and were happy to be alive. At the same
time: a wall of confusion, a blurring of time.
When they looked at the ticket stubs taped
in the back of an old journal, it was like
time travel, each a nugget thrusting forward
and backward, on and on - until the next day
made them squint from the low hung sun.


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