genesis

we suffer the sin
of our first breath
gasping it through
tears of new knowledge

of innocence
sent on a path
away from our
soft home and
soft heart

off to a world
that teaches us
the skill of forgetting
the family-value of fear
and the lust of war

I walk down the
middle of the street in
the small morning hours
no traffic to impede my
star-gazing wonder

“stand behind the yellow line”
is worn into the concrete below
one side continues down this path
the other lawless

in this timid night shroud
I can’t help but stare
at that yellow line
as I begin
to grow
back down.

tawmnation