Wednesday, January 21, 2009


In blank spaces
in between the trees
where I've walked
with the secrets
of stones and creeks and grasses
only given to
insouciant passers by
on their way to death
with no time for anything but truth
with the trilling sound of worms
in chorus to meet each new day
filled with echos of laughter
we used to bring with us
in back packs and school lunch boxes
when we missed our mothers and fathers
long gone on roads of their own choosing
with blame
and convalescence just a phone call away
that never gets made
because we're so fucking wise to god's ways
and how the puzzles get played
into the darkness we'll go
amazed, amazed at how little we see
on these back roads, these side roads
so sure of salvation
and knowing
one beautiful day she'll come

copyright 2009 Tim Wolters

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