HillShadow
Time is measured by the peaks;
the backlit sun all at once speaks.
But here our plodding, muddled wills
live in the shadow of the hills.
I Samuel 2:22-36
Eli
In the gathering of tares
I earned my bread—
sought them out with the
passion of youth.
The purest wheat
still lies ahead
with plentiful years
to grow the truth.
But progress and myth
are married in time—
back of the field,
behold the spread.
The hand that sowed
the tares was mine
and vanity
has been my bread.
The poetry and images of
Kenner Beckley
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