The Land of Wind
This is a land of spirits.
The wind spreads voices
grains of green sand on red desert.
Those whose land has been stolen
whisper prayers that hover, translating the wind
then rise into a receding cluster of stars.
The wind blows over their graveyard
unmarked, beneath a college town.
Thieves are heroes for their own
children, who pity the native poor
picking through their garbage.
They mow down black locust groves
to build identical houses.
The universe expands.
The cosmology professor dreams of
being elsewhere.
A spaceship.
View of a dim matrix of lights
each a beating heart and a needle of pain.
Copyright 2007 by the Tipton Poetry Journal.
All rights remain the exclusive property of the individual poet and may not be used without their permission.