Monday, March 16, 2020

Jeanne Leaves the Bottle

The earth has been sick for as long as I can remember,
Its cries silenced by the hush of a human voice
As fires burn the unseen forests beyond the eyes.

This morning, however, the earth is well,
The streams gleam as of old,
The hills hold the weight again of blue.

It's the voices who told us all was fine
Who have that tell-tale rasp now
Of something no longer viable.

It's as if the earth needed them to be ill
Before she could recover,
As the truth needs to be said before one can escape.