Ash clouds float
In scattered slants of light,
Like flies in a frozen breach,
Blankets of black cotton pad the ground
Gratify not curio nor slant the gaze,
Blot not your sense with stain,
Chin down, eyes forward, stretch the gait,
Of him no thoughts pertain.
In threadbare shoes we travel wide,
Aching feet on gravel grind
One, then the other, and over again
Until a flat crossing we find.
The cockerel's crow pierces the dawn
Young sun kisses the sky,
Soft moon, in blurry cloud
With callous stride and steady hoof
Through rock and rubble glide,
By gap and gully your step still sure
With death we don't collide.
The sidling sun drags dawn
From its slumber night and hugs the sky,
Around it, wraps its light.
Hushed screams in whispered chanter,
From rich to riches they say, and all,
With lofty smiles and petty patter,
From streets afield they bleat the chorus
Acid tongues, through pinched lips swagger,
We feel the pain, the anguish of parents
Who want to play and shout and play and rout
What things we learn to do and say
To those whose mouths we must allay,
And those whose minds we seek to know
A lifetime's quest seems now to show
You are the fairy dust in a desert storm,
The flashing beacon among sullen stones,
That guides the lost sailor safely home.