Tuesday, September 18, 2012


The old purple hearts crack
smiles slowly when they see their sons
pass the age that they were
then, like an old pillar
cracking for no reason,
after so many years,
the invisible forces of thousands
of time’s tiny creatures
like rust molecules
and germs
and the atoms in breezes
forcing themselves on stone.
Solomon grew fat among his thousand
wives and concubines, head of a nation
too happy to know knives
and fiery things, but he asked
for wisdom. So he went
without his body to where
senses stop making,
where the eye sees.
Ecclesiastes is the account
of a wartorn man. And just like
our Midwestern fathers, Solomon loved
his sons. And he was happy
to watch them get old
without wisdom, happy
in a sad, distant way.