Hunkerville

Another day in Hunkerville
A place where men slump
and feet bump each other down the path to home
But the Sun still shines
like in the days of the young.
And occasionally the men
even have a heart to dance,
jiggle and juggle
have a bit of fun,
And then there are the rainy days
when the air frizzes up
and cranky turns crikey
and there's a little twist to the tale...
Hunkerville is weight
on the shoulders, even the lungs,
a bit of silence, stuffiness, coughing.
Where the mist plays with the sunrise
before it reaches the ground.
But oh, it still lights up their eyes
When they look up to see the morning sky!
Men don't go slow in Hunkerville
The world just goes slower for them.
There's no reason to die in Hunkerville
where the men stumble down their paths to home.
It's just a place to be
when the cloudy days are hunkering down
for the season.
Love is a reason to sing
in Hunkerville
And talking is a 'take it or leave it' deal
There are people there
who don't know where they came from
and are trying to find a reason to be there
But Hunkerville is a place to be
when you need a safe place to be for a while
Without any reason at all.
Hunkerville is not a question.

Hunkerville is a season
A walk down a muddy pathway
on a day when you've lost your balance
and people are a blur
as they walk by your place.
They don't stop for a glance at brown.
They are cool and cuddly
And sometimes they blink so slow
You get lost in the depth of their eyes.
They are beautiful between the falling leaves of fall.
All the colors
that come before white.
Hunkerville is walking on the right side of the road
and counting your footsteps.
Men count their footsteps in Hunkerville
till their boots are worn,
but they've lost count
plenty of times before.
There seems to be a sunset in Hunkerville
But no one knows the scheduled time
until it comes.
1st December 2009