we wait (pt. two)

frozen days pass
like
boxcars laden
with
grain

and nights are 
cold(er) anyway.
where is retribution? and
where is 
singularity (in this mess)?

with whatever for, we
have lost
it all.

all silver. 

all lost. 

silver all lost. 

or is it? 

i
think - not. 

1 comment:

  1. the last stanza

    i
    think - not

    is very "eric"

    your first stanza:

    frozen days pass
    like
    boxcars laden
    with
    grain

    made me think about a familiar feeling in a new way. which is...exactly what a poem should do.

    ReplyDelete