On the Broken Road

We gather on these summer nights
around a make shift fire
            but in our minds it roars.
Shadows dance across the faces of
this composite family,
            this ragtag gang of hoodlums,
                       this proud assembly of Olympians.


Stories unfold
of the beginnings, of mumbles
             and other myths of old.
Stories to be passed down
once we are gone.
             When this forgotten, sacred
                       place is once again silent.


We are the creators and
we are the keepers
             of this very moment.
We are the only ones here. Alive
in every sense of the word.
             Dancing with the cattails,
                      laughing with the gentle waves.


As the night wanes, we leave our mark.
A sign of our existance that
             some will see as defacement.
Others will look on with awe and wonder--
whatever came of these people,
             these cunning, elusive renegades,
                       these mighty, mysterious titans?