Sunday, January 7, 2024

massacre at Regentville

Signs of the massacre
everywhere 
The fallen stumps scraping the ground
leaving skid marks helter-skelter 
like they were dragged 
against their will,
pleading for their lives
 
They lopped off the tops, 
hacked the limbs, 
so the trees stand bare
barely trees 
now they are shorn 
of branches, leaves, nests 

and a whole third shorter 
so the sun glares,
unlike when it used to peek 
at us from between leaves,
shine its light on us 
like diamonds glittering. 

Now it pours on us 
unfettered, 
liquid gold 
and we burn,
burn,
mourning the shade
we never knew we loved
till it was gone.

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