Baskets

Baskets of nothing
tasteless water
its a miracle we are not all dead
new and the old
steeples and bells
save your pennies and count your blessings
because tomorrow's a new day

A glass eye, false teeth
your worth nothing
bottled messages
read twice a week
he will be with you

Stain glass windows
reflecting nothing
endless bread lines
receiving nothing
ghosts are the past
this is the present

when will it end?




      N.J. Hartney