Each time I close my eyes

Each time I close my eyes. I see flat, endless rows in greenish grey Young plants dot chalky earth, a constant, brutal Sun above to bleach the sky a blinding white. A child, I sway, woozy in the heat.  There is no air, No comfort clutching the smooth wooden handle of my hoe. No one to call, just lonely acres waiting for my toil. My legs wobble and I force a shallow breath. Death feels near, I need only to lean into it And shed this place.  But then I fear They've lied, it won't mean peace, but worse I'd never know the solace of the shade again. Each time I close my eyes. Why should such youth be kept preserved? Not etched, but branded in the core of me? Each time I close my eyes. Eyes open, I'm surrounded by another world Adult now, and by choice, so very far away. It's full of bustling people, colors, city streets The slope of hills, the darker, gentler green of trees. But on the inside, ever rising from the deep Radiate those lines of plants atop a dusty grave. Each time I close my eyes. written: --revised Jan/5-/2001 Written January 29th, 1989 © on May 05 2001 05:03 AM PST    0 • 1