Beached

Beached at the hotel where T.V. creatures pay homage to the energy trees, and the flowering sun remains cased in a glass orb, surrounded by a clouded ball of glistening human vision. The viewers stare amazed at nature’s fire, but they are blinded by their own darkness. In the shallow hall where people queue waiting to be engulfed by the fiercely burning hue. I stand back, taking the world within my hand; I describe the picture of ironic living. Left by the wayside by a flash lightning stream, I see the river thunder towards oblivion. Where shallow graves smile with open arms in the infinite ocean of epitaphs. But, observing this view I’m pulled in by the icy clasp of conformity; into the maelstrom of living where people remain in line, still & confined.