Matt Palmer


Portals


This slowly fading portal
Leading someplace bright and clean
Away from grunge, filth, and what seems
A tainting atmosphere
A portal for my eyes
My pampered, privileged eyes
Going wherever they do please
Considering no single need
While quiet, jealous hands are toiling
Wishing, like the eyes
To know the humble waters whisper
And maternal grasses cradling touch
Lent by this portal so discriminating
This portal that could give so much
My martyred hands have suffered long
Known no surcease of task
So for the sake of justice
I spurn my eyes and from now on
Urge my feet to act as portals

Submitted: Monday, November 14, 2005
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