National Poetry Month

Poem for the day.

A Self Sustaining Endothermic Reaction

Which Temporarily Suspends Molecular Motion

We took the long way ‘round to the river, we avoided the rapids

            Too late

The blue sparkling salvation had gone, the keel dragged muddy sand

            Too late

Brown mud, black mud, churning red clay, the keel dragged

            Too late

Slower now, dragging mud in the darkening night, dragging clay, not dragging at all now

            Stillness  Waiting

Hardening mud, turning to clay, cracks forming, turning to stone

            Waiting Waiting

Dark brown earth turns gray as the color recedes from the sky, night falling now, dark

            Waiting Waiting

Gray waves, once blue stand still, hard as diamonds, rigid and poised

            Waiting Waiting

Clouds stop dead in the sky, once a rainbow at dusk and dawn, now colorless

            Quiet now, too quiet The wind waits too

Stars shine somewhere beyond the sky of glass and ice, above the frozen sea

            Watching, looking down, Waiting

The keel is held fast, the clock turns no more, the very breath of life suspended

            Waiting, Waiting

The glass clouds wait for the stuff that moves them, the thirsty mud waits for the river

            Cold and patient

The blue river, lit from the sky above, can’t sparkle yet, can’t flow as it pleases

            Gray light, Waiting

The atoms have stopped their dance, they wait for the music, the stuff that moves them

            Too long, waiting

The night is gray, not black, but no eyes see.  The light waits.  The eyes wait

            Deep night, cold.  Waiting

                        Deep night, cold.  Waiting

Paul Joseph