Tuesday, October 6, 2009

The Concrete Waterfall

The drowsy worker
By the concrete waterfall
Dreaming of rainbows

The man lies in the shadow of his truck
A yellow hard hat on the ground beside him,
His shirt hangs listless on a branch above,
He looks inside himself and sees
The waterfall to come.

He nearly feels the spray of splashing water
Sees it leaping down his unbuilt path
Sees it jumping over boulders, laughing
Crystal droplets singing as they fall.

He sees the water split by beams of sun
He imagines arcs of color through the mist.
He glories in the rainbow yet to be
Created by the waterfall he’s building.

In his mind he leans to catch the drops
Bathe his skin in the magic of the spray
He’d seize the rainbow, but as his hand shoots out
The rainbow isn’t there.

He wonders if he is himself a rainbow
Is his life an optical illusion?
Is he a glorious splash of color
That in time will simply disappear?

He stands, puts on his hat, spits out the grass.
He rises to complete his waterfall.