The Great Land

Once upon a time, there was a great land,
all pure blues and greens,
like million-year-old smiling eyes.

Its breath and sparkle filled us up with songs,
and we sang them for generations
after we had left,

forgetting why, mostly,
and forgetting altogether
the way back.

Once upon a time,
the stranger said,
as he sat by a strange fire.

His stories drew you in.
You stayed longer than you meant to,
imagined

majestic groves,
and pungent, sticky leaves
and soft, round hills,

velvet with dew.
You were filled with a breath
like a breeze,

but then the phone rang, scuttered every last trace,
and you cried and cried and cried
in the parking lot.

∞

Once upon a time, there was no way back
through the dead mud, the smell of sour oil
and the cold smoke.

So you wiped away the tears
and checked the rear view mirror
and wait.

Wait.

Glance quickly at the sunlight on your dashboard.
Check the mirror again. Well,
it’s you.

February, 2010

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