fairy flowers

I don’t know where poems come from, except for knowing that putting words down in rows, done for long enough, and with enough attention paid to those words, can lead to something the writer can call a poem.

And so it went today. I began with nothing at all, but for a blank page, and then I wrote some words, thought a bit, cut words out, shifted other words, put down more words, cut more out. Then I looked at what I had done, and continued – words down move them cut them put more down. And so to this, my poem for the day:

ravishing beauty

trees and breeze,

versus TV screen clatter

a daily battle

of Nature versus man

which will win?

for now at least

mankind will win

but the battle is long

and Nature, in the end,

will be all that’s left

we ravish the land

rip everything out

concrete over beauty –

thinking we’re greater

than any tree

but a seed will grow

through works of man

and win, when war

is done, and all people

are dead and buried

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