bucket of life

normal is a bucket
full of go
an onward tin pail with handles 
for carrying and a progress
of scratches on the wall 
to measure how far

normal is a bucket full
of happy endings always 
ahead of the shiny witness
they reflect in metal worn
by dreamers, the bucket is filled
with blood

you can march the day into night
soldier, the bucket is filled
with earth

All Poems © by Egil Dennerline, 2004