Granite and Air

Footprints of carbon across the sky

tell of struggle etched from stone.

Our place carved from cold granite

and air;

In between, humility and tender struggle.

It’s all-weather; the biomass of this planet.

Granite and air mixed like 2-cycle engine oil.

Shaken, not stirred.

Fuel for revolution

one step at a time.

Forward or back, nobody knows,

for our carbon footprints lead us

only away.

Away from here.

Away from this time, this place, these people and these opportunities.

Towards something for sure, but not here.

And the tender storms rage from age to age

through passing time,

trackless wastes but no stars to steer by.

Only footprints of carbon; leading us on.

Through this foamy sea of reality and the quiet noon

we push.

Boots of lead fueled by desire,

one carbon foot leads the next.

We wrestle to be known

though our struggle is not of flesh

nor of bone;

and yet

chilling echoes of liberty ring

like telephones.

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