Poems and Poetry

Our Destiny | A Poem by Richard Livermore

As long as the sky is there
to be scaled and there is
a fault-line beyond
the horizon that wasn’t there

in the past, and the fault-line
swallows the road
to the mountain, nothing
will ever be done.

We’ll sit on our haunches
like Australopithicus
and offer ourselves
to the sabre-toothed cat

until we are paid for,
and, when we are done,
we’ll hide our bones in the earth
and wait to be found.

 
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