LEGACIES

LEGACIES

The evening sun gallops over the indifferent mountains,
My sorrows fall like waterfalls and overflow like fountains.

I carry the world like a native juggling water on his head,
At home with the vagabonds and the unrepentant dead.

My fantasies, they swish and slide, over the gorges deep and wide.

I have lost my glow and lost my reasons,
Here at the changing of the seasons.

Like a tree that stands with one yet clinging leaf,
I lurch toward heaven with all the strength of my belief.

I have climbed the final hill and have fallen hard
unto the soft and lovely grasses,

I have lost the torch I carried to the scared and searching masses.

I have said goodbye to my friends and to my lover,
Given my life to the sweet smell of the rain,
And every last chance has slipped through my hands
Traversing alone this lovely fruited plain.

I have left deep prints where these tired feet have walked,
Have written the last word, talked the last talk.

I have built near perfect castles in the hills of my wildest dreams,
Then watched those castles crumble, ripping at their lonesome seams.

I have wandered this earth and tasted the world,
My wanderlust shining like a precious pearl.

I have climbed every mountain like a motherless child,
Floated through the strains of sleep and lost myself in the wilds.

The evening sun sets over the indifferent mountains,
My sorrows fall like waterfalls, and overflow like fountains.

And in the end, if I live or die, it is all the same to me,
Alone tonight with my memories and my meaningless legacies.

-Bruce Potts
Copyright 2011
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED