Thursday, October 13, 2005

Inexplicable Disappearances

Rainbows settled in silent flares
around our faded bell-bottoms and
defiant hair, igniting us.
We were the Revolution, the
torch clutched in Lady Liberty's hand.

King's dream led us to Selma,
to Washington (and oh, dear God,
when will the Dream come true)

Where did we go? We of the burnt
draft cards, the discarded bras,
we with the voices of a thousand trumpets
and aching breastbones, hoping
to turn water into wine and so transform
the multitudes.

Questions and more questions...

Maybe our dreams ran through our fingertips
until the weary fires finally died.
Perhaps disappointed tears doused them,
bright vibrant colors running down
through dead uneven grass
to the seas where even the dolphins
have grown oddly quiet.

Pris Campbell


tammy said...


This is beautiful. Love it.
Take care.

Michael Parker said...

Another classic, Pris! I love this.

Pris said...

Thanks, both of you. This is such a coincidence. I was just checking out both of your sites and came back to find these notes!

Geoff Sanderson said...

Another vintage PC poem! I just love this Pris - sad, nostalgic without cloying sentiment; your poems manage to be hard-headed yet strangely moving.

Pris said...

thanks g...i appreciate your comment since i strive for emotion in my poems without the cloying bit attached.