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May 10, 2010
A yellow light glows
flooding down the hill,
a sunrise we will never see
from the idle place,
our darkened pit of consistent sleep,
gathered with the others
for another night of defeat.
Alleviation passes me as
you observe my suffering
from comfortable loft,
Mister executive,
among the birds,
atop the trees,
high on your wall,
barrier to my breeze.
I burn before you,
I go down in this heat.
the frozen fire,
keeps burning
but is never relieved.
© Anna P., Poulsbo, WA
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