Between the Cloud and the Field

Between the cloud and field (Part 1.) I woke this morning and it was not clear to me If I am the man I am supposed to be If I am even me Wishing day would be night As I walk here and there Under the false light Of a city laid bare on seven hills Bereft of sight A city that has lost the fight Yet staggers on, punch drunk Towards the light held in its museums, Enlightened townhouses And their antique spouses The men smoke and huddle near And talk of other men Outside men’s pubs A second cigarette in their ear And I will not fall Backwards Into their chatter Into the world of tiny matters I have looked at death And we both have blinked Yet still I have lost the battle Retired to a back room with a drink A mind made up to overthink Should I go home With a lonely head Bowed up the stairs, through the door To find loneliness has fled? No, I shall sit alone in a room And think these thoughts of dread Everything comes from nothing And stops when you want it to begin Everyone stops sometime From the pull inside The Struggle Within And I will not shirk I will not flinch I will not be held back Before I begin I am one Though there are many And you will see us at the end You will see us at the end Until then? Lay cellophane on the fields As I cock my head to rest While the city fires burn slowly Emblazoned on my chest And up above was set in stone And the wind did its best Untie your shoes, hold your breath And wait patiently For Death