Stone rolls down hill
through frantic-torn path, past
spin-cut thrown branches,
and slim, depressed mums.
Now roll it back!
To crush we add despite!
unsanctioned the fall
re-made and unmarked…
Then forget the wide-eyed,
the sobs of cold children,
left and hard-trodden,
flesh feeding the trees.
Right to the side slip!
Evade every compass!
And find your own wayward
port in a glass.
This work, unless otherwise expressly stated, is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 United States License.
