Cloister-ed corporate commuters
Squeezed in noxious rows
And encased in tubular steel
A clan’s compulsion
Just streaking underground
All privately yearning
To fly-out
To nest
On stronger shoulders
Flocked in winter’s softer wool
As if they were
Moths encircling
That security light
Outside
My mountaintop back-door
(Mountaintop Cottage, Tennessee
~ August 29,2006)
always happy to read your words Dr Short, a perfect perscription.. indeed..
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Robots all, Debora. Wind them up and off they go. A hive of ants busily going nowhere. Great write here, so true to life. Love and hugs Ernestine XXX