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agriculture
by Vikki Owensi could not create
unless it was not already
devastated,
razed to the ground
slash-and-burn style,
while tiny sprouts
of infantile hope
lay buried beneath
and out of reach.
today there is ashes
tomorrow new growth,
a re-cycling of now,
life does cling.
each tenuous gasp
at oxygen and light
is a
battle of will
and luck
and a memorial
to what has been burned away. 02/03/2012 Posted on 02/03/2012
Copyright © 2024 Vikki Owens
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Shannon McEwen on 02/03/12 at 08:28 PM I really relate to this today, thank you for sharing it. |
| Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 02/03/12 at 08:54 PM I love the overall intent of this, but I really like that opening. Sounds about right to me. |
| Posted by Angela Stevens on 02/06/12 at 07:08 PM You have a lovely style to your writing, I like a lot. |
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