Classic Poem

Those who have not heard the
Songs of the Fathers

Have not heeded the cries of
Mother Earth

She whose heart bleeds when
Brother’s hand and Sister’s tongue

Shoot indifference
Through the Sacred Circle of the Sky

Rivers red with blood
Rush to stanch the wounds

The mighty forests weep
The buzzard rules the fallen tiger

And little men, with poison d’art
Sit in little metal boxes and

Cackle.


(Previously published in Autumn Leaves, May 2003)