Desire

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Casey Weldon

Distant relations sit in waiting, eyeing the fray in astute attention

Denigrating their young for want of substance while toasting to their fill;

bottom’s up!

If not desire – you, y’all, youse guys – announce
naiveté in all steps forward;

graciously forgiving in your all-knowing published analyses:

left hand(s) holding
magnifying glass, right hand(s) smudged red in discontent…

How lucky one is to feel
present, to mature in blooming ecstasy!

Admired by the
collective witness; pieces of bouquet laid to waste in a

passerby’s pretty petal
plucking

The sun – hanging above soapbox
– in a state of egocentric pining;

woke in its awareness of
absolute necessity:

rebuking others’ flutterings
while savoring the understanding

They’ve said there’s a
fool’s will that keeps the light shining

Or perhaps, an innocence
in the depths of the frequencies a buzzin’

We travel deep – fingernails
extended from wing – scratching into an ethereal sense of purpose;

make-believing coincidence
after each last word has been written

Louder yet, metallic cries
continue to silent the patronage:

Flying, failing; a
traveler seeking only to feel self in a familiar existence

I am grateful for Spring

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