Property

I stroke the earth with a comb
to filter youth
from the veins of decay.

I float like smoke,
hoping for home
but all I find
is another same day.

The only land I'll ever own
is six foot by three foot
and comes with a stone.

Each step's a link
in a chain of strain
and I'm pulled by time
like a lead load.

© Mark Sheeky. Permission is required for reproduction.