Tall Grey Men
Tall grey men with knobby knees
Their cultures on their backs
One has eyes and the other sees
But neither one keeps track
Past the bridges and knotted hills
Through tree lines, streets and snow
One must eat so the other kills
And farther on they go
Draw from streams a taste of life
That cascades over stones
Nourishment for withered minds
And rest for broken bones
Everyday the sun beats down
And vultures peck at worms
Astral planes and settled towns
Wait ‘round every turn
Feel the way with tethered feet
Outstretched hands find light
Cobbler’s stones on sunlit streets
With manmade lamps at night
Epic is their circumstance
Their travels take such time
Gone the days when peasants danced
And actors spoke in rhyme
Hopeful for a place like home
A kiss to bid them in
Long years since their cause was known
The nature of their sin.
