Escorting Passengers

“Indecision burrowed in our throat,”
forever / vacant
beneath the resistance for
“dreams in our lungs,”
narrow condolences
born valuable.

Lasting hundreds of years,
“we share,”
children in uniforms
“scorched earth,”
escaping refugees /
fleeing from the principles of our diplomacy.

“Fathers in the rush,” / Another abysmal quaking,
Taking a child’s hands.
“A mule’s bell,”
giving away the silently approaching stranger
“Waking us from our sleep.”

Beneath the throw of an immaculate eclipse,
steadily gaining repose
“in its corridor there is strength,”
some allegiance in this breach of time.

“With a strain of regret,
We are our keepers, / We haven’t given up,
Or have simply forgiven the forgotten joys.”