Monday, September 10, 2012

Last wishes.

Old driftwood, biding its time
till next resurrection
a staircase for an old maid
a puppet for a child.

It's posed for an intervention
nourished daily with each lapping wave
each trembling quake
hoping a wayward tide
would dislodge it from this cemetery.

Hope rarely moves a mountain.
Only the destructive force of a hurricane
or an earthquake insures mountains
and driftwood get their last wishes.


  1. oh, so deeply sad. "Hope rarely moves a mountain." True in its way, but destruction can't be the only answer, can it?


    1. Hope doesn't move a mountain, but action with a shovel might. I was thinking that we do a whole lot of hoping and praying and wishing. What we need is more action, as futile as it appears to be at the start. Thanks for the visit, ds.