how long have you been standing there
with your rough legs thrust down into the earth?
did you notice how we run around you,
the collective chasing of someone elses dream?
maddening really, the way we don't even notice you
as if you are the background of our lives
that never changes
so why is it that we see you for the first time
when you are gone?
is it a fault to want the picture
that lives in the glossy pages of our projections?
all that sky now is without a breath,
and the life in your limbs is nowhere
to be found
and the old ones that stood a thousand years
did nothing but fall at our feet
do we ask too much?