Synaesthesia Magazine Cities - Page 52

Weather-beaten face,

hopeful eyes

follow the crumbling, yellow brick road.

It’s a long way down to the cement buildings.

Away from the cows and the moneylender.

And the wife and the sniffling kids.

Walk away, as fast as those farmer’s legs will carry him.

From his thatched roof and his ancestral lands,

where his father was interred.

Gray pastures beckon.

At the outskirts, the smell of piss hangs heavily in the air.

Baleful eyes at every step,

Glare at this interloper come in for his share of the bread.

A kind soul,

the kind that works for commission,

nudges him along to the supervisor.

A paltry sum to haul some bricks and sacks of cement.

Enough for some bootlegged liquor,

and to bribe the night policeman who would shoo him away from the pavement.

On his back at last, blistered feet can now rest,

as his eyes search out the yellow moon,

squinting down at him through dirty clouds.

Painting by Angie Reed Garner. Angie (1969, Lexington KY USA) is a second-generation narrative figurative painter, with a BA from Reed College in '89 (Classics). Garner has been exhibiting actively since 1996 with twelve solo shows in the US, Europe, and the Middle East.

Gray Pastures