Saturday, August 12, 2006

Moon Travel

Ever landed somewhere new
And just feel like it’s home
Some long lost mythic you
That makes you say,
“Yeah, I like it here, fits snug.”
When city street strolling
Catching grandma’s laundry
Dancing in a breeze from
Street signs and family
Thanksgiving wafting from
Mid-town restaurant chimneys
And street lids puffing cotton balls
Like papa’s cherry oak pipe
On your way to those
Pantheons resting across
Reflecting basins sitting calm
Like Nordic legends
Halls of paradise towering straight
Up like Babel
With a blinking red Illuminati eye
Linked by water
Rivers of life
Refreshing great-grandfather whistling
Bronze hymns upon still
Rocking chair as you
Shuffle the wheat fields
Of ebony memory
Where big brother fallen football hero
Stands forever a man
Remembered though lost like
Summer days of baseball
From dawn to the settling blanket of night
Where no alley scares you
Every corner unfolds those secret spots
Like games of hidden base and space man
Where moon travel is safe
Because you never really leave home

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