The hug of humans we saw it.
We called for it
the creatures left us.
Left us by sunlight and beaches.
What else is there after beaches?
Silicon dioxide, photo albums,
mountain peaks in the distance,
the beating of spouses
as barren as the landscapes we’ve spoken
by our own bones alone,
by the Ford Ranger parked under awnings,
the cigarettes on the dash.
Your mouth was empty when you ate only bread
tilted your head, had anger,
we have to deal with our conscience.
The cotton shirt had stains as they walked out,
– Poetry by Wes tewkMehrtin