Can't You See?

People, people, people...

Can't you see?

We always want what we cannot hold.
Some mad perversity has afflicted our soul.
No torment, save dissatisfaction, was ever so bold.

Our sensibilities, by lust, are hastily sold.
Desire consumes us like some cancerous hole.
We always want what we cannot hold.

Our heart is the problem (truth be told).
Unchained from logic, we forget our goal.
No torment, save dissatisfaction, was ever so bold.

Such beasts are not banished when we grow old;
still they howl and threaten our self-control.
We always want what we cannot hold.

Such inane delusions will never unfold.
Nights of fruitless dreaming exact a heavy toll.
No torment, save dissatisfaction, was ever so bold.

The wayworn wanderer can scarce drive out the cold.
Who holds the brazen censer of coal?
We always want what we cannot hold.
No torment, save dissatisfaction, was ever so bold.

Returning Home

Finally home from a semester's work,
I stretch my legs to December's cold smirk.
The skies foretell of a perfect e'en,
slate blue and heavy with moisture unseen.

I pull on my boots, wool socks and coat,
then cinch up my belt for the fowls' heavy load.
I don my waxed cap and head for water far and remote.
The heavy, tumbling flakes a good hunt forebode.

Weather-worn walnut and bright polished steel,
my shotgun, like a leopard in my hand feels.
She leaps with agility as I mount for sport.
Yet, no bird rises to meet her roaring report.

I tromp through the prairie grass with her alone as my cohort.

I reach the pond dam with daylight to spare.
Breaking my double, I check the pair of high-brassed 4's.
Iridescent green lights the sky as mallards flare.
A day at the university never compares to one on the moors.