Monday, August 8, 2016

why we grieve a harvest

grieving a harvest
of sorrow
we planted the seed
of ire
and reaped
our very generation's
burning fires
we begged
for grain
but ate the seed
left none for winter
and instead
entered a sleep
so deep
beckons come here
my child
we might well be dead
our secrets will keep
and the future
might never
bother to appear