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what am i living for?
by Charlie Morganthe morning's mouth yawned, swept me up
in the ensuing inhale, used-up oxygen.
i resisted to be taken in it's gullet;
but was none the better for the attempt.
i was to be grist for the day's mill;
waterwheeled just right to flow easily
into each trough, spinning the wheel
that chews the course meal into fine.
from ground, wheat to sheaves, to wind-blown
heads that fall as gravity grabs a hand, pulls
each one down, letting loose the dross of plants,
skins, to be fodder for the next gereration.
and so it goes, as it should be.
09/30/2008 Posted on 09/30/2008
Copyright © 2026 Charlie Morgan
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by George Hoerner on 09/30/08 at 11:18 PM I think that is what we all have to look forward to and it doesn't seem that bad to me. At least I might be of some use to those that come after, like a place to step or plant a flower. What more might one ask? |
| Posted by Mary Frances Spencer on 10/01/08 at 07:38 AM yes...the cycle or circle continues...MFS
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