S, a poem by Andrew D. Carson

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Poems by Andrew D. Carson

Teacher of all that is needful to the loves of my life,
I stroll, cubs in tow, down from the cave to eat
At the brook where the great fish leap
And the spray sings of spring, feast, and growth.

I suppose that goodness creeps onto one's life
Like kudzu on a Southern farm in the hot summer sun.
One moment, you're as selfish as the next, and as cruel.
But suddenly you feel what others do, and it's over.

When others are hungry, I feed them.
When others seek knowledge, I teach them.
I turn down beds for the weary, and hide the hunted
From those who would do them harm.

I admit I do need people, to care for them
And to be loved in return--maybe just a little--
But is that such a bad thing, in a world become
Machine-tooled, a wire-frame nanny with pap of nettle?