KENGARAGS

The day after the five hundred years of Columbus landing by Pina Piccolo The Morning After glow Of the forest Who survives The foolishness Of civilizations, Regenerates herself From disturbances At ground level Witnesses species Aglitter and extinguish Proud organisms shrivel up In a combustion of arrogance. Yes, she was affected, Her tears of mourning Mistaken for dew, Her sighs of disapproval Thought to be wind. Yet her deep roots Still gripped the earth, Temple stones Corroded by moss Became sand Transported by ants. Even the poisons Floating on the water Were purified Beating Mile after mile On rocks Nature trying to Wash off a stain. Forest , now, we pull Limbs Off your spreading body, A demented weather Dries your wells, Nasty kids Playing god, Tug at your Apron strings. No longer waiting For discoverers or messiahs You stand attached to the soil And bend, Bowing to th