in a silo we pile up
grain and memories,
roads traveled and
wheat and bread.

armageddon is knocking,
a wind against the door
that we lean shoulders
against to keep closed.

in a silo we dig paths,
trenches to battle from
and broad walls to
keep us safe and still.

we struggle from fields
to our keep from the wind,
hurricanes and hatred
flying after our feet.

in a silo we hold vigil
and wait for the sound,
the pounding of ascension
or of being left behind.

we wrap our coats tight
around our creaking backs
to keep the blood close
and heartbeat closer.

in a silo we make love
and tell jokes and stories,
in a silo we keep life
firmly within its bounds.