The garden is awash in earths tears,
unleashed by climate change fears,
carried on gusts of wind beating down
on an already soaked ground
where drenched petals now lie spent.
The sky cried for days, nothing really new.
But now she cries for others, too;
not only herself as her rhythms are torn loose.
She cries for miles of wounded souls
across America’s fields of woe
as Americans try to cope with the pain
of children ignored, wounded and slain.
Guns locked and loaded against all
who are not white men with moneyed eyes
which blind their view of progressive skies
opened to all that is bright and new;
like children who seek to grow up wise,
appreciating every new experience
as an exploration of greater happiness.
Even childlike innocence is not enough
to save the lives of little ones
when war is waged by hopeless men
preyed upon by sellers of guns
who magnify phony fears for profit
and ratings and votes.
Earth and I have come undone,
hopes dampened by clouds of tears
hiding the sun. Each child a flower
mown down, unable to run to safety.
Not one.
Not a single one.
annarino writes 