May our burdens lighten, may the day
lift shadows from the ground like leaves
caught in a summer wind, before they
lengthen; may the strip of cheap
colored foil twirling in the branches
bring wings and lost bird voices; may the ant
shouldering a crumb of bread find his way
by dusk; may a hand reaching for something to dip
into a cup of coffee come across the half-moon
floating like an abandoned biscuit in the sky.
In response to an entry from the Morning Porch.
Amen! (I love that my moon became a biscuit here. Reminds me of the children’s song, “The Moon’s the North Wind’s Cookie.”)
…may a hand reaching for something to dip/into a cup of coffee come across the half-moon/floating like an abandoned biscuit in the sky.
DESERT ANGELUS
Wish this upon that wasted waif
reaching for a cob of corn on a cold
night among the lean-to shelters.
Pray for this as hard as you can
before the scorching desert claims
his little body back among debris
of sticks, stones and bones dimly lit
by fluttering fire from stoked ember,
frying the flies gleaned from holes
hiding them in the crannies of boxes
left by a howling army of thieves
absconding with the relief supply.
A border guard sips freshly brewed
coffee from his tin cup, cocks his
rifle at its ready-to-fire 45-degree,
sneers at the child’s shaking body
in the arms of a tremblingly bony
hand of its mother begging for tea
or a tad of coffee, a balm for a cold
night at the gobi, where a half-moon
floats like a half-eaten biscuit in the sky.
—Albert B. Casuga
08-22-11
“Deserted Angelus” is also reposted in:
http://albertbcasuga.blogspot.com/2011/08/desert-angelus.html and o8-23-11 FB post.
lovely images all the way through