by

Corey Mesler

 

     

I took the heavy thing out to the top of the hill.

It was the hill the town built

when we realized we had no hills.

There I struggled to set the heavy thing upright.

Once in place, I stood aside and

let the sun begin to erode the heavy thing.

I watched like a proud parent whose child the

world is chipping away at.

The heavy thing is no longer mine. The town

has embraced it and now it is a sort

of monument. It means more now than it did when

it was only the heavy thing that I thought

I could not bring myself to talk about.

Tomorrow there will be another heavy thing,

this one seemingly a quandary beyond comprehension.