Red Earth (a poem)

look what emerges from black mountains!

God help us all – the army marches

toward the town, big boots breaking

hard winter ground, a sound

so horrible we clasp our ears

our worst fears coming alive –

they call these men “peacekeepers,”

& i scoff – they don’t want peace,

but to tear us to pieces

bloody bits splattered on cabin walls

the end of our lives for sure,

we’re sure when the first machine gun

rattles like a diseased lung

we’ll melt into the red earth

(Photo by Beat Schuler on Unsplash)

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