The Undermine

(written 1/29/08)

Winds of change are blowing,

kicking up leaves,

stirring this nest of tragedy,

sight overseen.

Kicking up logic,

forethought mistrusted,

consistency shallowed

and heartstrings busted.

Leaving me a desert,

the kindest desolation,

the chattering lies

of chosen isolation.

Wait for spring, child.

Rains come with patience.

Worth the wait beside the mesas

where it's been long believed

that dust harbors tricksters,

their havoc to be silenced

in the still calm coolness

of inner shade.