Tuesday, October 14, 2008

Promised Land

(for Lilac)

You are a land promised.
A land I wish to visit again.
The voices I hear are not my own.

I remember driving you back at night.
Sitting in the car and listening to the frogs.
How waiting for you always filled me up.

You are a land of promise and prosperity.
A land small children laugh and play in.
The voices we hear are not in our own heads.

I see you from across the room.
Light falls around you like bayonets.
The stand we take must be our own.

October 13, 2008 11:05 PM

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