Marc Swan, 7/12

Wild Fire

 

In the rambling wreck of uncertainty

we call day to day life

 

so far from the predictability we knew

as a child in a far away time

 

when rivers flowed cleaner and purer,

grass a true green, no additives,

 

flowers bloomed wild and crazy,

people passed on the street said hell-o

 

how are you and actually meant it.

Unlike today when simple kindness

 

is lost to malice aforethought—

new and improved killing fields.

 

A bullet’s worth more than a life

in Somalia where they carry their guns

 

as easily as we carry a wallet tucked

into the hip pocket of our jeans.

 

Wild berries still grow above the tree line,

if only the raven could teach us to fly.

Promote. Poetry.
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