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the setting Sun at Jug Handle State Natural Preserve, CA |
I knew then
when a wizened
rice peddler
told us that fable
I was the grasshopper
she was the ant
and we would not
be able to stay
married
so as the sun begins to set
it is getting colder yet
with each successive wave
quiet steps bless themselves/
our nostrils flare the wind
who knew what when
is the game we played ...
but it was all the same once
true hunger got a hold of us/
in the beginning
as most things unfurl
conversation was
the bus driver
we scattered ashes
recent pasts
across the great
expanse of nation
we have going West
to the Pacific
the driver was
the only thing
we could see
and after we
dropped coins
in the box
he motioned us
away to a seat
somewhere in the dark ...
he began to speak
we walked to his beat
the road is seedless, kids
no matter how you pie
the slice of life given
light comes only to you
from the inside/
and please remember
in this life
and in most times
the hoppers have
always sought fun
while the ants have
always picked up
the pieces ...
EJR ©
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