Thursday, March 13, 2014

A Poem by Marc Carver

Only in the Making
We drove past the roundabout
there was a big tree laying on its back
roots torn from earth
"Get up you lazy bastard."I said 
"No sleeping on the job."
Later,I thought how lucky he must of thought he was,
the road had come through there years ago,
all his brothers sacrificied for progress
but not him
he and two of his friends stayed in a sunny spot with only the punishment of watching cars all day long.
He was lucky
but today god told him his luck had run out.
A few days later I saw the men there who were cutting him up
no coffin for him
only in the making.

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