Ruins, Her Monument Poem by Tsani Jones

Sun sets on her
Temple of broken memories-
Doors closed,
The holy path of ruin.

I am there,
Curled tightly under the dead laurels,
Watching the walls
Built on missed opportunity.

I've missed the sun,
Lost the moon...
Hunger motivates,
Provides the miracle cure.

How do you know when you're dead?
Is it when the raw nerve lies?
Telling you all is safe
When the sacred river is dry?

Do I go to hunt the rain?
I seek to bathe in iridescence
And mend my crystal heart.
Perhaps the journey ends here...

I don't know where to go when
All is big empty.
Miracles elude me,
Still we all wait for a sign.

It's all lost on me,
I missed the boat,
Can't swim, swept under
A flow I can't contain.

The fool waits in line,
Guilty posture and silent stare,
Smiling at the grand joke...
And I am in it.