While the mendacious moan

their pious exclamations

to smother any dissent,

a metaphor translates thought,

holds out the broken leaves

as an offering from the gods,

an opening to move through

to find a different bend

in the light you’ve come to know.

The ground, slightly uneven,

is common enough, a solid

base to build upon.

Simple words whispered

into temples and prisons.

(August 21, 2018)