Monthly Archives: January 2018

Sonnet #226

We are so careless with our wild and precious world

We live as if the size of us is endless horizons

As if there will always be another mountain

Another valley, another lake, new boys and girls

As joyful, as safe, as fulfilled and fulfilling

As if progress is measured by the gravity

of money, how it seems to magnetize more money

into heaping imaginary mountains unending

As if the imaginary mountain is greater than

The one that is blown apart, all waters polluted

We cannot eat the imaginary mountain

We cannot live beside these forests denuded

We cannot promise that there will be life again

So broadly this poem, beat it hard, prosecute it


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Sonnet #225

I took my prayers to the oldest tree
And blew them up into the branches bare
In some few weeks I hope they sprout in green
When seasons turn, but I know what grows is rare
The winter branches catch what ghosts they can
But most will drift into the clouds, and this is grey
All those low, bleak winter clouds, all plans
That have been lost, dreams that escaped this day
I took my prayers as well to Balcones Fault
Where the crevice in the rocks cuts deep
Old Gods inside the earth with wounds of salt
Will they accept what clouds will weep
All lost prayers become the green eventually
Just give it time, an earth, a sky, you’ll see.

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