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Futile

Pamela Davison Avatar  Send Soup Mail  Block poet from commenting on your poetry

Below is the poem entitled Futile which was written by poet Pamela Davison. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.

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Futile

Red-wine melodies
And moon-light visions,
Painted moments
Of my best memory,
Live among the swamps
Where midnight climbs cypress trees,
The bounty-hunter 
Of my childhood.

There,
Water-moccasins and alligators
Are much prettier 
Than the human atrocities 
I’ve encountered
Since first wandering
From those familiar lands,
So savage and sweet.

Now I find
The disappearing marsh
My preferred salvation,
Scented with an integrity
Humanity would not understand.
For the raw temperament
With which I exist
Is unmatched by foreign element.

I’d rather smell the discontent
Of an unspoiled bayou
Than the wetlands
Of man’s superficial 
Acknowledgement,
Yet I am an unwilling criminal
To the crimes
Wrought upon my nature.

Would, if I could,
Find balance between
The cicada’s recital
And the beauty of humanity,
If only in a glimmer.
I’d walk in both worlds,
Satisfied and complete,
Without hesitation.

But for the force
Gleaming within the impossible,
I am left to flounder
Within red-wine melodies
And moon-light visions,
Emotive motivations
Prompting my pen
Into futile action.

What heartbreaking agony
To witness the last
Of mangroves 
Where I’d sooner die
Than see my great-grandchildren
Live without knowing
Such eloquence
Of genuine statement.

From where I stand
There can be no substitution
For the memory lost
To progress
And I, too,
Will fade away,
 A tribute
Blurred by time.

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