Chaff Huff

Set me atop a sundrenched ziggurat

Listen as the rain trickles down my temple of heaven

This place was built by farmers

As their quiet selves adjusted straw hats

And went to work, plowing fields

Don’t ask me how the formula goes

All I know is the situation

The plump wheat grew high

And the yellow straws wrapped and entangled

A passionate embrace

The final scenario

Was a castle, unfolding like a parasol

Exploring the flavour, of the summer’s radiance

My architecture has many roofs

More ceilings and numerous staircases

That only go up

But I am afraid, snakes go down

A muralist lived here once, so did etymologist

So illustrator, so doctor

They come and go

But I remain

I can make many things into flesh

-       Autumn leaves, summer, harmony

But can I locate pre-made humanity

That fits with my puzzle?

The ridge of me, the edge of you

The systems function far better

Separately

I just stay in my tower

Made of nature’s string

And pray the wolf that preys

Isn’t all that big-bad

And if he does blow

With every puff of wind I’ll spin

And through a network of connections

He will himself be grinded into bread

The mill and the butcher’s shop

I can be

I do hope that my heaven temple

Can resist change

But wouldn’t it be glorious

If my Babel were to fall

All that yellow grass

My kingdom of hay

Tumbling back to earth

Collapsing as cymbals clashes

I could be chaff in the wind

Let me leave right now

Through the back door

As the sun sets on yesterday

With long shadows leading

I’ll go on the run

Here’s hoping my tower

Is not a wheeled creation

A locomotive of automatic nature

Instantaneously suggesting my capture to itself

And agreeing, determining my demise

Then my dire situation

Might lead me to surrender

Giving up the chase

The fortress, I would hate

The price of protection, is freedom

Safe in my prison

Who new this cereal was made of bricks?

But perhaps If I light a little fire

Paint the town red

Or just send a signal

For help.