Spring is beautiful.
Full hills,
green.
Round;
soft as breast.
And then,
the leaves,
breakout on the trees.
The petals drop,
carpet the Earth,
pink and white.
Behind the fruitfulness,
are men,
who experiment with seeds.
Men of chemistry,
men of disease.
Men at the borders,
men who quarantine.
These are "great men".
Driving the Earth to produce!
My God!
There is a crime here,
there is a sorrow here,
that weeping cannot symbolize!
There is a failure here,
that topples our success!
The fertile Earth,
dying.
In the eyes of the people,
failure.
Apr 22, 2012
Apr 22, 2012 at 12:16 PM UTC
Spring is beautiful.
Full hills,
green.
Round;
soft as breast.
And then,
the leaves,
breakout on the trees.
The petals drop,
carpet the Earth,
pink and white.
Behind the fruitfulness,
are men,
who experiment with seeds.
Men of chemistry,
men of disease.
Men at the borders,
men who quarantine.
These are "great men".
Driving the Earth to produce!
My God!
There is a crime here,
there is a sorrow here,
that weeping cannot symbolize!
There is a failure here,
that topples our success!
The fertile Earth,
dying.
In the eyes of the people,
failure.
Copyright Barry Pietrantonio
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