The Cave by Rustin Larson

North of Oxford

The Cave.

The most beautiful thing I saw today

was a damaged square of sidewalk

where an old butternut tree had fallen

and cracked it like a pie crust

revealing a hollowness that plummeted

forty feet down into an abandoned coal-

.

mine shaft.A room with walls of coal.

I once entered a cave, felt an ancient comfort.Today

I woke in my room.When I meditate I plummet

and imagine I can understand bird song, the sidewalk

robin, “For this day we thank thee, for thy pie crust

we thank thee, for our lives…” The song falls

.

down the long shaft of being to where I sit, fallen.

The cave was in Missouri; I felt at home inside; no coal,

just graffiti from Jesse James.I could see the crusts

of bread strewn in the bandits’ grotto.Today

however is blind.I pound the sidewalk

with a stick, hear its hollowness.Coins plummet

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