Sunday, October 19, 2014

The slow, dark anger of a mountain's heart

Beyond the walls when they made love
poison from the corroded soil crept above
his were the hands those cut the trees
she burnt the branches meant for the bees
long, disturbing shadows on sloping surfaces
cried aloud when they lost ancestral traces
gone the forest, gone the spring
gone the season when he would bring
captured through leaves the sun's moving part
instead came the slow, dark anger of a mountain's heart.

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