weeds grow where the ground is broken
something has to live again
rainwater gathers in the hollowed earth
something has to fill the void
sun bursts through the smoke we made
burning all the things we had to possess
something has to shine a light
freshening wind blows away the stench
of the inflammation anger brings
something has to breathe again
wild animals hide and birds take flight
deep in lairs or risen far above it all
some things have to begin again
somewhere ears and eyes open
voices speak of what was witnessed
something has to make it known
© BH, 2024
Something for World Poetry Day. Facebook, Instagram, and now here. And, my God, we need it.
More about regeneration and witness in the face of destruction.
Fucking humans!
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