Apathy from Boredom Beach

It falls and flutters,
The rainy day,
And the wind utters,
Its contempt of earthen clay.
Down with the dawn,
And up with what's right,
But the human lifts up his arms,
And lays on them all night,
Long.

***

Active is the day,
He thought,
Driving home the sands of May,
And singing music deep and stout,
As Deep with Wonder,
A Wide Bell's Mouth.
Contempt with what lies yonder,
And resting against life's clout,
He closed his eyes and dreamed again.

***

He woke again,
No feeling in his limbs,
Souls resting from the apocalypse,
And still he rested,
Laid back upon the timber,
Cloth and pitch,
And picked up the match,
And with a flick of his wrist,
It lit.


ISA