A Pome a Day for a Year

When artificial towers box in the optimist,
a funny little thing occurs.
Frantic chasing, basically a bee
(as yellow) buzzing toward red pollen
shifting over rusted sands of time.

Landing within an upheaval,
a solitary turned duo,
this routine forever altered
striking out in search of lush
nature.

Though goals come and go,
the longing, (a river runs through
these feelings), never subsides
as chemistry itself changes
both parts of the equation.

To the ends of the earth and beyond
in search of help, passing through
space dust and rainbow lumens,
the awe never overcame the
fear of loss.

While sloths awaken and machinery
sleeps, within us is planted
the seed of hope, love and renewal
though capital seeks, as always,
to stay the course.

Dancing towards success, these rogues
subvert our lumbering stagnation,
putting us on the pathway to
redemption, at their greatest cost,
but all debts are covered.