Bradley Jay Phipps (December 17,1956 / Durango, Colorado)
Listen To Fresh Green Nevers
I think so deeply
about the yesterday's of men
poisoned and bleeding and haunted
by the remembered questions...
'Can we color a picture? '
'Can we explore the dazzling stars? '
...when night is
magic and brilliant and delicious
as seen from our backs,
which feel warm and moist,
on the green summer grass,
deep in it's embrace
like the hug of a handmade quilt
through generations of prayers.
Prayers somehow forgotten
in the midst of a single breath...
forget to breathe for a time
and then linger after the prayers
of their children still
innocent to the worries
of the world and it's work...
that crucify our faith
Comments about this poem (Listen To Fresh Green Nevers by Bradley Jay Phipps )
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