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Poem – Clouds (By David Russell)

Clouds

In chroniclers’ minds

Past wars all went full circle

Making great urban filth destroy itself

So that the finest flowers and shrubs

Could sprout at random.

 

And birds, in exultation

Or happy in their ignorance

Made rills of melody

Now man had passed them by.

 

But now, with ice and poison

For one full year enthralled, embalmed.

And after that, growth’s circle

Jarred shuddering in mid-turn

 

Can even a worm

Or an amoeba celebrate?

 

[su_david_russell_speculum]