Contributor: John Ogden

- -
I wish life was simple
like it used to be
soil under my fingernails
food at my fingertips
vibration of life
in my fingerbones.

I remember a time
when prayer was a whisper
spoken from hungry lips
later smiling
with the promise of coming hope.

I remember a time when my back was strong
when I was young
in the heart
in the soul
before time knocked me down
broke me
brick by brick
and left me piecing poetry together
with fingers that no longer work so well
anymore.


- - -
John Ogden was conceived of a government form and a passing mailbox. He lives somewhere out in the woods of a rural land more akin to the fantasy realms of literature than real life, and his favorite dirt bikes will always be the broken ones.