Shadows.

Let us hide in the shadows of dawn and creep
toward symbolism until there is nothing left
but a calm hand on our shoulders.
I am tired of the night.
I want the new lords to assert their positions
so I can judge them quickly and pass on,
on
on
to the next couple
who seem to think
they have something or another.
To return to humanity in a dark place of holes and caves,
one can never be too certain.
She lacks the notion of how to motivate a crowd
how to speak to the finer people
with her head held high.
She sees this food on our table as a giver of strength,
not a meal that comes with the turning hour but what of it?
Nobody really understands the cars that pass or the mass of atomic bombs that situate themselves under us.
Wait, wait, wait.
As the symbolic heroes of our era pass
on straight into the god of wine and Allah,
revive themselves and start to move away in slow motion.
They will never know of those
who cry after them and wish their return.
Never.
We arise again my companion! Arise!
This time.
Our only time.
untill it is again dark.