“Allegheny Foothills” – a poem

on an open road,

hills curve and sigh with the caress of wind.

i watch the great green blooms,

lush and verdant, unruly

knowing their beauty shades homes

marked by dejection.

i wonder how we can reconcile

the whispering black pines that scribble all over heaven

and the incarnadine flowers

with the illness

that pervades these hills and valleys.

how can we reclaim

things that never did belong to us:

our trees studded with emerald and topaz;

our rivers shining like diamonds;

our salamanders dripping with ruby paint –

for purposes of desecration?

 

 

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