How exhilarating it was to march along the great boulevards in the sunflash of trumpets and under all the waving flags -- the flag of ambition, the flag of love. So many of us streaming along -- all of humanity, really -- moving in perfect step, yet each lost in the room of a private dream. How stimulating the scenery of the world, the rows of roadside trees, the huge curtain of the sky. How endless it seemed until we veered off the broad turnpike into a pasture of high grass, headed toward the dizzying cliffs of mortality. Generation after generation, we keep shouldering forward until we step off the lip into space. And I should not have to remind you that little time is given here to rest on a wayside bench, to stop and bend to the wildflowers, or to study a bird on a branch -- not when the young are always shoving from behind, not when the old keep tugging us forward, pulling on our arms with all their feeble strength. Copyright (c) 2001 by The Modern Poetry Association. This poem appears in the August 2001 issue of @3Poetry@1 Magazine. http://www.poetrymagazine.org | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE MOUNTAIN by HAYDEN CARRUTH I SING OF LOVE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON STREET CRIES: 6. TO RICHARD WAGNER by SIDNEY LANIER HOUSE WITH THE MARBLE STEPS by AMY LOWELL RICHARD BOOTH TO HIS SON JUNIUS BRUTUS by EDGAR LEE MASTERS TO A PRIZE BIRD by MARIANNE MOORE HOMAGE TO SEXTUS PROPERTIUS: 3 by EZRA POUND |