Ground Touch
Ground Touch
Last Wednesday a man threw himself under a train,
and they had to peel him off the rails. One can add
to tragedy, but nothing can be removed from it—
you can't stop a road-map of life, and that's what that man
was trying to do. They peeled him off and laid his form
on a tarp; covered him with quicklime. After scraping
the rest off with trowels and other implements,
they dropped him on top of his own heap, folded the tarp
into a body bag they dragged away. Always wanting more
has a cost. But I guess love is the hardest to want more of,
for it is already at its ultimate; even if there exists today
no limit to keep it at bay, it is what there is, a dove that flies
ever so high and can never keep itself fully off the ground
but must descend, perch, and want to be with earth again.
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