Poem of the Day, Listen & Be Heard Weekly

From behind a row of trees rises the echo of drums.
A school band practices for the march that comes,
yet it could be the youth of Athens ready for war,
or another world balanced on a metaphor.

You have seen the way clouds pass across the sky.
That is how the history of men passes by.
A young prince rides out, bright with health,
but the snow comes and covers his rusted wealth.

What prayer removes the burden from our back?
Perhaps it's therapy and regular doses of Prozac.
Or maybe it is just a simple saying of the truth.
He'll have his martini with a splash of vermouth.

Can you believe it, after thirty years, he still can say
the words that sent him stuttering off to Bombay.
Furthermore, he staked his job and lost the bet,
and spends his morning surfing porno on the Internet.

Another man walks in a blizzard of circumstance.
A fog of incense rises to the arches in a spiral dance.
Behold the light between tall buildings like feldspar--
it's enough to say God finds us where we are.