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Poem

Unspoken Tokens - by Bob Atkinson

he walked over desert sands
for miles stumbling as a wild man
up to a fellow he did approach
to tell of the journey he made for gold

with quiet eyes this gent appraised
the needs of one who tramped so far
no canteen upon his back he saw
just tattered clothes and skin rubbed raw

"you need a bath" he said so softly
"the dust of road sets on you now,
I have no water for your dried lips
but here's a fountain in which to dip"

"please sir, a drink of water now
or I will die within the hour"
he showed his mouth dry of moisture
lips cracked open, face afire, broken

"no man," the gent respoke with irritation
"no water to drink, just to soak in,
you set out on this journey when you had duties
many things more important than wandering remotely

yet you proceeded to trek across desert
your lack of duty left your life useless

now you want water for drink of mouth
re-arranged priorities to that of the obvious
sit down on that rock and ponder all of this
how you ignored responsibility for a fools quest

take your bath with pleasure there
yet sip not the water, as you don't care
for those strong ties of devotion
to others and life's unspoken tokens

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