The Lament of Sysiphus

He strains long against the creaking wooden wheels of the cart

Slowly lurching upward, the incline beckoning him with its taunting slope.

Every muscle grinds against another as the sweat pools at his feet.

Off to his lower left he sees a frail flower planted along this trail

Its white petals effervescent against the red clay of the dirt mud.

For a moment he lingers, but upward, forward he presses.

Along the ribbon of trail a wounded doe languishes,

He gathers her up in his weathered hand and gently places her upon the cart

Because he knows that alone is as sorrowful as death.

Grunts and groans meld into a painful chant as each step pushes up against him.

With other worldly effort he crests the trail to find a cliff and now

To heave and slip the grip so that this cursed cart can fly into the abyss

Shatter, splinter, and mangle upon the rocks far below –

Or turn and slowly, creakily return to the foot of the hill

And start again.

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About bgm1969

This blog is updated by a guy who’s overweight, silly, Liberal, spiritual rather than religious, infatuated with beauty and grace, musically blessed, and always changing.

3 thoughts on “The Lament of Sysiphus

  1. join our poetry rally if you wish, a cool way to blog, make poetic friends, get encouragements from your peers,
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    amazing blog, your poetry is refreshing and powerful.

  2. Pingback: Thursday Poets Rally Week 49 Fresh Poets 2 Explore Page (July 28-August 3, 2011) | Promising Poets' Poetry Cafe

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