The amaranth fields
beckon, their youth
crystallized, eternal
laughing at rain, snow, hail
war, loss, grief, joy, death
widow’s wail
and soldier’s breath
amaranth fields
giggle in gentle breeze
they never know decay
their joy persists another day
Vine-laden trellises
bear witness
to those arriving
on a mist-marked morning
a brick pathway
unfurls
once straight
now
thorny tendrils hold
searing colors
so vivid that their
full luster stays
until the ship sails
to what lies beyond
this
mortal coil.
Petals crowding, swirling
in a gyre, each melon-pink
awaiting their final fall
where they will lie,
for a beautiful soundless wake.
Giggling
sunbeams gather close
sometimes behind thin clouds
leaving little to the imagination;
Emerging, erupting
new shoots see saviors
browning grass, new tyrants
until the Earth turns,
there is no higher master.
Unspoken Politics 