spies in the filed - lillies in the field

Here's the next poem in one of my latest series adorned by a photo from illustrious Marfa, Texas! Woo!

spies in the field: lilies in the field


we sincerely hope for heaven
someday, as all
do,

in a field of holly or
lily or
berry, of clover or leaf or
twig.

we also dream of the great heaven
of steam, of engine
and smokestack,
of truck and cantilever.

the lilies of the field are
not angry at
us for wanting other things;
lilies have
no

feeling save benevolence.

our violence is what will undo
us;

hell is the same thing as a bar
fight and a blank wall
lit by a neon sign.