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Fresh Clarity
©March 1st 2022, Olan L. Smith
Stratum under strata lay the deposits
Of time on the windowsill, humus on the
Earth buildup on the unwashed coffee
Cups flaking off into the mouths of god
As they drink life of their own creations.
Hurry up, rush, run, to the end of your
Life, and for what...oblivion, more dust?
Bones decaying in the bitter earth,
Or conserved in the swampy bogs for
The living to find, tag, and later display
In museums, here lies the ancient bones
Of Homo Sapiens Neworcus, died circa
2020 of COVID, found in a mass grave.
Who in real-time knows his destiny, who
Who yearns for sickness in riches of day?
Evidence for life is exhumed in yawning
Dirt of life, laid down in layers of dust.
A living planet, the Earth builds until it's
Seasoned by Sol, the sun expands
Out to shed its shell, a fresh clarity.
YOU ARE READING
Poems from the Quill, by Olan L. Smith
Poetry"Poems from the Quill" is where I place current works that don't fall into other collections. It is here you will find obscure poems that range from constraint to free-verse. I began this collection as a contest entry, years ago, for what was then t...
