| fly-by-nite lighthouse |
| I sit back just watch it happen- a sense of a stormfront embittered and fattened plump droplets of pure inertia sprinkle-spread as they land demand an epiphany with their empty hands raised over unkempt river squalls nudged diligently south on windshield as moisture they deliver. I watch- Erect a suspension bridge roadblock down its double stripes causes traffic to stall a wreck of twisted bones blood and engine parts gears, axles, fluids all decorate the two-lane delineate the route that is doom for drivers mentally lame I watch- then mosey to the shoulder seek a path through the morass wipers cringe and creep across half-dry glass wake my mind with eeking groans I realize signify more than busted cars and thunder's inescapable drone I watch- and with that the structure pitches and shudders concrete precipitate combined rain for long moment hovers then swoons to the rapids below my foot hesitates in that eon of a blink an overdue flurry of thought slam pedal to floor for brakes I close my eyes no longer to watch. |
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| ALL POETRY COPYRIGHT MB TANKERSLEY 2004 |
| suspension bridge |
| One thing about life it has taken me quite a while to realize is that inactivity and observation may seem passive but in reality are actions unto themselves. Choosing inaction can cast changes upon the world- some of them more provocative than the outcome of a bold action. Personally, I feel I've played the role of observer for long enough- if I continue on my present course career-wise, spiritually or with my writing there is no reason to expect any difference in my circumstances. I must prepare myself to take a bold step... |
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