Ancestral pain reborn in every breath:
lungs expand, contract ... there it is again!
Like old friends who stay behind together--
here, too, an old response: Wisdom, Patience,
a ragged Hope for better things ahead.
this, too, shall pass! Ah, sweet, thus shall you hope--
though simple guarantees belong to fools.
Wise men hunger too: cruel starvation, in-
discriminate foe of humanity!
These ancient pains carry no surrender.
One day old Sol shall not come mounting up
that dark, traditional Earth-edge sojourn,
yet shall breath-borne ancestral Ache remain.
june '06
feb '10
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