Los Angeles Poem by Linda Hepner

They all complain but I still really like it,
jagged sidewalks and protruding roots;
they now refuse to run but I still hike it
hearing near my feet the sound of flutes

Flutes far and muffled but still gamely piping
in the cracks and weeds that poke their leaves
asserting that with all the city’s wiping
stifling life and growth, Demeter grieves

Grieves for her fields, but knows our heady schemes
will all be swept away by wind and water,
our city crumble, gone those promised dreams,
and she will once again retrieve her daughter

Daughter we should cherish, but we bury her
in Hades’ concrete, yet that false terrain
will also quake, and Pan, with hoofs and fur
will whistle up his weeds while his refrain

Refraining our vain efforts pipes forth bugs
and ants and rooty trees with mushrooms, mice
and lizards, hawks, coyotes, snakes and slugs
and mountain lions, all an even price

Our price for God’s obscure “Subdue the earth; ”
He never meant this street, this state, the West,
He meant subdue our greed, and then give birth
to dreams that fit with Pan and God’s behest.


LRH
11.6.08