The August Occassion

(A 'Stone Street' poem from 1975)

The field stretches to the pond
now stagnant with weeds.
Mature summer scents
hang heavy and sweat
as I keep daily watch
upon my microcosmic world.

The surrounding suburban fortresses
have, each and every one,
conquered their vast quarter acres
of wilderness.
They've tamed the trees
the grass, the flowers -
civilized them, fertilized them -
so they're safe and as sterile
as a picture in House & Gardens.

I hear the chain saw noise
of dirt bikes
cutting through the field,
making what was once a rabbit path
a mini-highway.
The field becomes scarred
with the ugly stitches of tire treads

I post 'Keep Out' signs
and I become a part of Fortress America.

.

-by Mark S. Foley

..............................Mark's Page........Synergy Poetry........Synergy Home