American Landscape

C McSheridan has added a photo to the pool:

He divides the bills into three distinct stacks:

The ones he must pay.
The ones he should pay.
The ones he cannot pay.

He writes the checks, stuffs the envelopes
and gently applies each stamp.

While upstairs, his daughter cries
for something lost
or possibly,
something found.

The teenager next door lights matches
and burns a smiley face
into her arm.
Better to feel something than nothing at all.

Somewhere -far away- a door slams
and a heart is broken.

All the while, the earth rotates west to east
and the clouds gather to occupy.
The Sun struggles to show injustice
but the Moon strongly denies.

-Clayton McSheridan