image Poetry of Kent Foreman

It is the Law

by Kent Foreman


                                                                        It is the law:

                 best-selling books
                and empires come and go.
Babies is born to die,
                bridges is built to one day fall,  
                and shoes wear out.

Spring will return.
                                                                        It is the law.
                                                                                        Fat, flat feet plod their beats
                                                                                        Time patrols this universe
                                                                        Enforcing the law.

Love is a crime of passion.
                Innocent desperados
                                 we wandered deep into the forest
                                                that we were
                                                                 awed by the marvels we became
                Aww, we were beautiful--
                                                a little.

                                                                                        And nights
                                                                                        amongst our pungent love
                                                little muttered cries
                                                                                        fluttered from your lips
                                                                                        like startled doves
                                 when we’d explode,
                                 in all the furthest firmament
I first led you down that road
                                                                                        . . . remember?

Well, once upon a love, we laughed  
                        were kind, cruel, daft
                danced in the streets of Flatbush
                                                                                       at Mardi Gras
Now we have lost,
                According to the law.

Of course, I raged
                Like a teardrop
                                Angry with an ocean
                                                                                       Appeal Denied.
                                                                                       I’d liked to have died

                . . . . But , having wept my pain away,
I lift my head and wish you luck and say:

                “I will not mourn the passing of a rose
                 I am a law-abiding citizen
                                                and everybody knows

                                                                                      Spring will return.
                                                                                                      It is the law.