Labor’s deserts

by T.P. Wilkinson / February 26th, 2017

Where between the leaves
Beneath the puddles
of earthly perspiration
lies the source
of sorrow
that our effort
spurns?
When between the praise
Beneath the layers
of mendacious condemnation
does sanity
its voice
dare strain?
Why between the quick
and dead
who share the same
earthly soil
must stolen breath
poached
with others’ sweat
from wilderness be taken
to silence the still
And stillborn?
While the skins of labor
Not only the fur
Might clothe
the vicious few
who never toil!

T.P. Wilkinson, Dr. rer. pol. writes, teaches History and English, directs theatre and coaches cricket between the cradles of Heine and Saramago. He is author of Unbecoming American: A War Memoir and also Church Clothes, Land, Mission and the End of Apartheid in South Africa. Read other articles by T.P..

This article was posted on Sunday, February 26th, 2017 at 8:04am and is filed under Poetry.