So Long in Nebraska

Maybe this is how it worked in Russia
Under czars and, later, party chairmen:
Execution on the cheap, a death which
Doesn't burst in through a doorway,
Flash of light and gone, but one which
Is seen coming, like a horseman, from
A long way off, an image of what can't
Be stopped, the dust raised by the
Horse's hooves, the terrifying figure
In the saddle growing steadily, the
Sound of hoofbeats heard at last by
One exiled to the steppe, its flatness
And its emptiness, and solitude
Combining to drain all the will to
Live away. Death is warmly welcomed
When it comes.

I've heard hoofbeats getting nearer to
Where I have lived so long, exiled
Only by myself. The figure on the
Horse is here. I open up the gate
For him. This is how it works.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 59 times
Written on 2016-01-27 at 00:25

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