The poet says ,we are custodians
Of life’s meaning,freed from past
A trusteeship writ in dusty deed
As God’s camera flashes up there.
In reality ,God’s day light clothes
Hang there to dry and they drip
Like balcony roses holding pearls
Of an early morning rain and fog.
Trouble is we are always haunted
By bells sound, somewhat smelly
Like they ring from garbage van.
The bells ring for all in our creed.
And god, what smell to our nose!
The creed is the garbage dumped
To yard where it burns to smoke.
Meaning is a self-congratulatory
Facebook message going up like
Garbage smoke, beyond the lake.