Thursday, August 21, 2008

The Sign Post

It's funny where inspiration comes from. Something seemingly unrelated can trigger a thought, or a feeling. I wrote this last evening while I was driving home from the dentist while thinking about my 18 year old son, who is thinking about moving to England.
(Not to worry, though, I pulled over before I wrote it.)

The Sign Post

The Sign Post

He stood still
on the side of the road
paint cracked and peeling
words etched into the wood of his face
faded to dusty-gray.

He watched them come for miles
bright clear faces
longing for the sea
or to climb mountains.

He pointed the way equally to them all
the angry ones
looking to hurt someone
the sad ones
searching for a place to die.

Boldly in the wind and rain
while sun bleached his face to white,
in fog that hid him
in snow that buried him
he watched them come and go
sometimes wistful
sometimes with no thought of them at all
Just standing
as he was made to do
a sign-post by the side of the road

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