A Complaint
Oh, Atlas
We must have a conversation
You hunch there, tensed and groaning.
Why do you hold it up, I wonder,
After all these centuries past?
The weight, you say, is greater
Than last year
I see, I reply
And the year before, you murmur to your toes
I stretch, close to touching the globe and ask, Then why lend your strength to its support?
It is my lot. Your God is putting the pressure on.
Not so, I say,
He has not changed.
This is very clever. And imparts a great message. Loved it!
ReplyDeleteI'd love to see more chapters. This whets my appetite, this conversation, the narrator aside from Atlas - who is s/he? How did she arrive there? Very cool ~
ReplyDeleteGod hasn't changed. I like!! But the earth hasn't changed its weight either, at least not beyond a smidgeon from cosmic dust and visitors.
ReplyDeleteThank you for the anniversary salute.
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Must be why I get heavier every year. It's not heaven's job! Great little poem. - Brendan
ReplyDeleteso happy to come across your blog. you write beautifully. the last few lines in this poem are just breathtaking. love it!
ReplyDeletestacy lynn mar
http://warningthestars.blogspot.com/