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a poem by Jason R. Huff


I saw the sign of Eden on the side of the road:
Four black letters boldly boasting confidence,
contrasting the white metal sign upon which
they were nailed, as if to suggest the forgiveness
of our sins. The weeds below grew tall
along the stretch of pavement, dry like flesh
stretched across wood to become a leather
savior in the sun. The hills beyond held brown
and yellow grass, aged with antiquity like a book
no longer read, buried deep in a hotel nightstand.
The landscape was barren, void of trees to tempt
with wretched fruit. Only the simple sign stood erect,
used as a label to identify the things
we do not want to lose,
like the way we label our jackets and underwear,
or the way we name our newborns;
like the way we lay etched stone upon the earth
to mark the barriers of our dead.

© by Jason R. Huff
Gutter Eloquence Magazine ~ Issue #26 ~ April 2013