Moral comfort.(Poem)

 
Moral comfort 
 
   After all this wandering what is there left 
   but more wandering? Several teeth in a jar 
   and an apparent loss of consciousness, 
   a fading of the curtain under pressure of light, 
   all the dancing has stopped in the courtyards, 
   the troops have left town, their escape route 
   long since publicised, along with the catechism: 
   even the gods have their messages from above. 
   The lottery numbers have fallen, been forgotten 
   and still this chatter of fortune. A finger rests 
   on a ring finger, the roughness of the knuckle 
   tests the surety of ceremonies; brides, cars 
   of ancient model, rice thrown then falling 
   from couples. The promise from all of us 
   to uphold what is right and true--until 
   it fails us. And then the promise to be held. 
   All the flags folded and placed in their lockers, 
   the teenagers sweating in gymnasiums, 
   lucky ...