Shadows
In this place suddenly thrown into disarray
It is impossible to distinguish
Between what is garbage
What is not and what is still useable
So much earth, sand and dust
Has fallen that
Everywhere I see
A great can of refuse
The mucus I wipe on my sleeve is black
The throat and the lungs are eroded
Let it be, just the way it is…
Listless and resigned, I roll up my sleeves
And muster what little enthusiasm I can
I cannot let this be turned into a vacant lot
At least until I pick up the marble
I dropped here before it became this way
At least until I can pick through the refuse
And save at least one suitcase’s worth of pure junk
It will be completely stripped away
It will disappear
I must stretch out my hands
And hold fast to
The shadows of this land
In a suitcase I will surely
Never open again