Camp
- by Skorda
Running from the law, the family, bad debt.
or maybe just running, chasing fortune
with dreams and picks they headed west
to the edge of the hills, Deadwood.
Whatever they had been, this is what they are now,
ragtag men with muck on their boots.
Just men, with strong backs and hopeful hearts
thrown together by chance,
the fateful cry of "gold!"
Perhaps this day will be the one
when luck will change and gods will smile ,
promises will be kept.
Or maybe this day will end
as have a thousand others
for these tired, dirty men,
caught in their breaking dreams.
One more night in the rough saloon
knocking back whiskey, numbing fear.
Camp women lean across the bar
smiling into the dirty darkness,
a promise of their own.
Here in this land of dreams
where everyone can make a buck
the lonely heart will pay.
Skopelos and Virgin
-by Skorda
when first you see it
across the water,
rising round and new above the mountain.
Open your mouth and swallow
while youth holds its roundness near,
and you are running fearless in the dark.
Hold it inside, it is still warm
and you will need its light,
there, inside you.
Down the road of time, somewhere
after you’ve aged, traveled,
Explored, discovered.
And the dust around your doorway
has been pounded hard and smooth under your feet.
When you find yourself growing weary and bored,
when your eyes see only ruins,
and your heart is empty.
You may believe, in your exhaustion,
that this is truth, at last.
That the mystery has unraveled,
leaving no wilderness to explore or tame.
All secrets have been shared,
the frontier has dissolved.
Know then, with these thoughts,
you have been swallowed.
The warm belly of the beast
comforts with confining darkness
and lulls with rhythmic sounds
Murmuring to you,
Curl up and sleep,
just go to sleep.
Shake your head,
stretch your legs,
do not sleep now.
Remember what you know.
You swallowed the moon,
you hold it inside you.
Not as a magpie hoarding shiny things,
or wearing the moon for beauty
or bartering the moon for wealth.
You swallowed the moon for this moment.
When you will walk to the water’s edge,
open your mouth, release the moon
and let its light build you a pathway
across the wine dark sea.
©Skorda 2008
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Camp
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