Dry as Desert Dust
Karen Hallenbeck-Sikorsky-George BS,RN
Friday June 1st, 2007
There is a plain, far yet near, inside your spiritual ending, it is
Waiting for a whisper, edging closer when you least expect it
To you I sing one simple song, clearer now, and louder than
The anthem of sadness etched in your powerful heart, it beats
Like a primitive drum, sadly broken by a child abused, used
By her sickest mother, just a nest to birth, spit out, dead one
The leaden weight lifted, it is hot summer day
The playground is empty by that old school
Grade school is just a million years away
Don't hold my hand in your heart, hold me close
Highways are not the same, the confusion that last day was
Boundless, stuck like glue in traffic, one stop light became
One hundred, stick shift gnawing rat holes of pain inside my
Skin, legs became lead weights, did you think once that I was
So far away I might never look back, it was so easy long ago
When forgiveness meant flowers, a word spoken, a touch
Yankees are not me, I was one once
They hear my drawl, laugh, smile, look sadly
Serious as they contemplate is she really here
Will she stay, she cannot be here, she'll die
Simple food, dead air stagnant like a tropical blaze, scalding
My truth, it hurts to know I failed at this trip, so many before
For the beginning and end are just one round circle and the
Miles are wasted time, the energy better spent cooling off
Wiping the sweat from my brow, knowing that I must remain
Still, like an infant yet born, breathing slow, with gentle sleep
Thank you for having me here, where am I
Who are these odd people who don't have fun
Where are the vestiges of America for I've come
Across this great land to see explosions, life
It is no less barren, frozen, burned to a crisp than other towns
Cultures drifted, life became the Vietnam war, the soldiers and
Battalions spent months, years stepping over land mines and
You never knew how lucky you were in the arms of a sick one
Who loves you endlessly, who will scream and yell in fear
If he thinks you are leaving, waiting perhaps for a holiday alone
I punched the clock, your face follows
No more crying, yelling, just a sweet smile
Thinking of how we don't have to answer
To anyone but our beating heart, right here
The ballet dancer is poised, so very innocent, palest pink light
Shimmers across her face, high cheek bones shadow two tears
Clear dew drops of life, oh she loves yes she does, even one it
Is you, do follow her across this wooden stage, polished with
Wax, slippery, her steps guide you back to the place you never
Dared go, her heart is yours, now take her to the store, do so
We are out of Coke
Need coffee, some bottled water
Just a taste, a subtle glance over
Time stops, I love you, yes
I am here, home, for you...
