Neighbors

Neighbors, we get up each day, and
Face the cheerful morning sun. We
Leave our homes to take on tasks
We've told ourselves can be accomplished,
Will be, when the evening comes.
He puts his shoulder to that stone,
And slowly rolls it up that hill.
I thread through aisles toward
My love, who smiles sweetly when
I come. The boulder rises. She
Is pleased, but, in the end, the
Stone rolls to exactly where it
Used to be, and my love turns
Away from me. I treat my
Neighbor to a drink, and failure's
What we talk about. In time,
We part and go to bed, to wake
With foolish faith.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 60 times
Written on 2015-02-08 at 13:40

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