It's always dark where I come from

It's always dark where I come from

fiction
edward w pritchard

I followed the jets crossing the sky
East to West, north to south
to the serpent mounds,
piling basket after basket of dirt and debris,
we made a hill
but waiting and waiting Jesus
never exited from behind the large stones
so down the dark hole
back to the source we slipped
in other words
it's always dark where I come from
open the windows
clouds block eternity