Road Menders: Sonnet # 2

Terrible: the grip of grey dawn, a
Heedless symptom tempting each and
Every Day, Night’s pipeline curl, the

Random starlight misconstrued as story,
Offertory ink in a pinholed curtain…
Amen to space’s godless vastness where we
Defenseless children glide the blue marble, Earth,

Mammon’s globe, our chimp coup playpen, and
Encapsule the offending tubercular invader, the
Nascent drifter of galaxies. We’re heirs to a faithless
Donation, undeciphered testament, stasis and
Echo, shockwave across the still waters,
Remaindered for a shard of Eternity,
Season to our history’s day, eon to our hour.

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