USA

then i became aware then nothing

Then,

I became aware.

Then faces
became horrible,
honest in their journey.

Where did
the people
decide to be?
If not here,
now,
now…. here.

Stories
are not only read
to escape or
preserve the past.

Stories are recited
like a needle,
sowing , stitching
the hands of a painter
to his mouth and eyes,

telling him
he s healed.

Now he can believe

in nothing, but sound

fading memory.

© All Copyright, 2007, michael e. smith.
All Rights Reserved. Printed By Permission.