To balance dread and hope in a fragile world and feel relief when a friend shows they care.


Tyres through the Dust

We are following the tracks
Curving through the dry river bed
Soft dust still floats in the air
We carry sticks on our backs
The land has been bled
There is little to share

They are wide in deep rut
Heavy with hope or with dread
Death or life to where we live
Like the world has been cut
Into pieces of words to be said
To memories that never forgive

Now the road cloud is clear
We see trucks by the tree
People gather to stand
Singing as we walk near
We join in when we see
How the world holds out a hand

So the lorries have gone
Leaving tools to remake
Our land in the sun
To rebuild and belong
To give and to take
The friendship begun




Poetry by Adrian Wood
Read 696 times
Written on 2012-04-18 at 14:06

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