Sonnet #62

We killed the buffalo and carrier pigeon
We made a desert where cornstalks thicken
And feed is grown for cattle, chickens
Where once the prairie swayed like religion
The death of the Monarch is witnessed in space
After the corn, the empty fields are a wasteland
The feedlots pack deep and people beat the grassland
To make the beef, to devour eggs from one bird race

The buffalo breeds true with cattle, it’s a cow
We just don’t see it, the meat red, milk white
All the great nations of the plains will tell you how
They watched the whole world thrive without
A single tractor, where millions lived to follow

We couldn’t bear to lose control, our blight

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