Cities and suburbs, real and imaginary.

Wednesday, October 19, 2016

Sonnet #109

Sometimes in the woods, while walking, I picture

Life the way it was a few days back, just a few
When naked, born into the woods, one with nature
Our weak hands, weak legs, we had to make do
No schools and grocery stores, no job but fill
Whatever doesn't make us sick, we eat
Whatever we can reach and snatch we kill
And everything feels the same to us, all meat
All trees and spiny thorns out there, all struggle
in the dark to live, imagine what it took to build
a single piece of land into an orchard, learn to juggle
all the different seasons so we never starve, our guilds
preserving all we know so others will not suffer
We are specialized creatures, now, communities that buffer

Post a Comment