Dead Field

Dead Field 7/10/2012

It probably doesn’t matter
That I stayed in bed
And it probably doesn’t mean much
That I don’t care at all.

The world goes on
Self deluded and dumb
Heavy, crushing
And spinning in space.

I was shamed and wounded
And no one said a word
As I lay dying
With all my blood
Rushing out.

Others have come and gone
Without a memory or clue
Walking softly on the grass
Without making a dent
Or blazing a trail.

I drove the jeep through the orchard
Spinning my wheels in the mud
And we drank whiskey and ate blueberries
In the hot summer sun.

So much is lost
But life lives on its own
Forgetting you
And forgetting me.

The sound of our voices
Echoes out into space
Traveling in the eternity
Into the deep dead black.

If I could go back
What would I do
And what would I say
Because it probably wouldn’t matter
And I would die anyway.

We are amused for awhile
And fattened up in the sun
All a part of a bitter harvest
Tall , Golden and rich.

The reaper has come
And cut us down to size
Killing me and killing you
All for nothing
And done in a day.

Our time is short
But we never seem to know it
And our feelings do not matter
To the sun
Or to man.

Our anger is wasted
And our sorrow is a bore
Dragging us down to the bottom
Unaware and overripe.

No one cared how much it hurt
And no one noticed my face in the rain
As they walked by
On their way to the end.

The rotted fruit fell to the ground
And the tires crushed the sun burned apples
Never before and never after
Will I ever laugh
Like that again.

Memory fades
And even the trees grow heavy
Lowering their branches to the ground
Gratefully sleeping forever.

I am in them
And they are in me
Together laughing
In shades of green
And fields of gold.