if we
February 19, 2010 - 5:00 pm
If we write words in the sand,
who will read them? How will we eat
with our dirty hands, our scuffed feet
buried in seawater, wiping shell and bits
of plastic pails, broken on the tide?
If we write poems, who will ask
what they mean? Does one contain
the meaning of life? A scribbled scratch
on the underside of a classroom chair:
bio 128. this world is too late.
If we sing songs to the night,
will they echo? How will we breathe
with the sound in our ears, our eyes
leaking leaves and fireflies?
One last song, the dark fades
and we hold hands beneath the stars.
