Carry on waging war.Carrion’s all you train for.A price is paid.When young are laidUnderground,Who have not found,Nor ever will,A life fulfilled.And by cashing in,Earths’ fruitsTurn to compost. R K Olson ©2024 All Rights Reserved.
Earth quaking trees sprinkled their pollen,
Powder puffing the forest floor.
A plume of golden mist rose up from its lush green lineage.
Blindness is not just in your eyes. Your ears can be blind to new ideas. Indifference can make your brain not care to climb up high – to stand up tall.
Leftovers again,
My brother and I chorused.
A daily occurrence
For us, it seemed.
Not once did it ever
Occur to us,
There it is again,
that open box so familiar.
Yet I can’t put a name to it.
“Have one they were always your favorite.”
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