Sluggishly, we pull our sins
towards our end.
Some carry with strangled rope,
digging their heels into the blistering sand.
Others carry theirs as carry on luggage on their journey.
I stopped half way up the hill
to drink and look how far i've come;
and i've got to go.
I squint and stare to the top of the hill.
The golden sun echoing the end
and signally that it is time.
I turn and see the fields,
the flowers. The thorns.
I see all the way back to
the calm blue embryo sea.
So far. So soon.
A woman, with golden hair
trips and slides down the sand
leaving a trail behind her.
We applaude her, she has long to go.
Another woman, clinging a sleeping
child to her stomach. Walks past calmy,
her thin head looking to the sun,
yet she does not shield her eyes.
They are into the sun before time has passed.
I stand again. I look towards the sky.
I will be there soon. I don't fret,
I am content with my fate.
The worlds slugs on;
The sand burns;
The climb is steeper.
My teeth grit through parched lips.
As I begin to walk again,
with fate in hand.
