after

sometime they will be able to walk
across the black fields
without stepping on the faces of friends
without hands grabbing their ankles
sometime they will be able to
push their hands into the rich loam
push their seeds into the rich loam
sometime they will be able to hear
the rumble of a truck passing
just a truck
and the roads will be roads
not the shape of a greedy black river
full of spite and stones

the greedy black river wanted
babies, and mothers, and fathers
and wood and underwear and pots and spoons
and slippers and beds and chairs
and trinkets and books and signs
and roofs and cows and chickens
and it snatched them from arms from hiding places
from everywhere it took them and tossed them
and rolled them with stones

now there is the black mud
and the hands and faces in the mud
and maybe a spoon in the mud
that is everywhere