A Few Things

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: October 15, 2018

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Submitted: October 15, 2018

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when it comes right down to it
there's only a few things I do well
that bring me meaning
that bring me purpose 
while tumbling through time
this fickle breath of life

and I'm good with that
because only a few things
is more than none

and there's a lot more folks than you'd think 
out there 
unaware 
just scratching in the dark for direction

I think all of our troubles
start there somehow

you'll see them lying on park benches
early in the morning layered to the open weather
one arm around their only bag of things
the other one over their eyes

you'll see them leaning on a fancy framed degree
their life completely planned through retirement 
gradually perfecting the thin air of water cooler talk
emotionally lost beyond the current sit-com quip

you'll see the blue collar flannel sleeves
hunched shoulders and stiff elbows on the bar
afraid of what would happen if they stopped
afraid to go home to a failed marriage

you'll see the white collar crowd with nice smelling hair
across the street dressed to impress
bellied up and faking it all with straight white teeth
afraid of the same damn thing

the numbing
the numbing is endless 
under the crowded streetlights
and manicured subdivisions 
their children raised by a flickering screen
predestined to perpetuate

I've had an Estwing hatchet for over twenty years now
and finally know that splitting a crate of kindling
for the woodstove 
and carving a few thoughts into words
fashioned just so 
into short bursts on a clean white page
is about as simple as it gets for me
in the deep and quiet coulee bottoms of the driftless

it makes sense
it brings me peace
it's a few things that I'm good at

the moon 
an amber sliver
rising in Scorpio
waxing crescent in the southwest

the first night I've seen her 
in weeks


© Copyright 2019 peter engen. All rights reserved.

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