Eerie Morning Sun, Here

God what a balancing act

the news ringing out in siren call

cutting through static air

complacency

it’s too much to compete

with whatever else is going on

fulfillment before the desecration

the ground we walk

you and I we’re stuck

in a place where novel concepts

are worn like thinning

tread on the bottom of our shoes

every morning the sun

casts an eerie glow in shadows

glossing over

all sense of urgency and sedation

no one gets what they want

here – everywhere else the world

dies off around us eroding

it’s banks and rotting

where the water cuts

a line in sediment’s stain

drifting across the periphery

wafting across our vision

the road to hell

unraveling increments

paved with feigned nobility

soiling its wear in cracks of the soul

intentions creep in

and wear resignation eating

from the inside savoring

flesh of the host

Matt Mauldin
2/2018
Santa Barbara, CA

Originally appearing in Another Way Round

https://awrjournal.wixsite.com/anotherwayround