Mother Earth
Has a face of stone
Not without expression
Happy tears, sad snows, angry squalls
That fall from clouds
Formed from her children’s breath
All our breaths into wind
That is her voice
Her ears can hear
Mosquitos mate in perfect fifths
But the voice of Father Hertz
She loves the most
And here we are on planet earth
In our nursery
Hearing their lullabies
But not the symphony
It is always such a delight to see you post one of your wonderful poems. I love this one, and the photos are sublime.
ReplyDeleteI was surprised to see a whole year had gone by since my last post. Time flies.
Deletep.s. How goes the building project?
ReplyDeleteWell, it's not going anymore. Too hard to have job + mandatory overtime and build a shack and deal with wind blowing roofs off and everything else. My next project will be an earthship underground.
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