Litkicks Message Board Archive

Vastnes of Mind (R.U.A. pt2)

Posted to Action Poetry

On a porch there sits a chair,
rickety and old
wheather-beaten and green-grey,
rocking with the wind;
content to be where it is--
a silent observer
sits upon it with practiced grace,
pulling His collar up to block wind to smoke
The wind rushes by on the cold night
and He opens his mind,
spreading his thoughts....
seeing the people
seeing the gathered mass
and hearing their chants
He smiles and flicks the flint,
takes a puff and blows a ring
and laughs.