Poem in Progress: ‘THERE IS AN OLD BUNKER WE’VE OFTEN WALKED PAST’

Here’s another new poem in progress, and, perhaps not surprisingly: another Halifax-area park touched upon.

Enjoy.

THERE IS AN OLD BUNKER WE’VE OFTEN WALKED PAST

– Point Pleasant Park – Halifax, NS

and we know mistakes, no doubt, have been made. keys

misplaced; vows bent, and then broken. error’s often

compounded, we know. but this: this just has to be the last

mortgage of outrageous beauty come, finally, unavoidably

due.               come undone, the drab, dun 3-2-1 of this old

bunker’s concrete is punch-drunk and scurvied,

slumptumbled-cum-crumbled about; a mumbled gravel

antipathy fallen in on itself. toothless recrimination, its

door’s breath’s all cold-coffeed: rusted hinge and stale piss.

but on each morning walk, on each grudging

dawn jog, we concede –  we can’t miss –  the stark, simple

fact of  this very junked tonnage at all, its prosaic avowal of

the weathers of burden. how it’s stayed, how it stays;

diminished, no doubt, but still. staid.

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