Revenge
The trees are too busy
losing leaves
or withdrawing deeper
into their winter selves
to notice me.
Clouds pass overhead
oblivious to my presence,
the wind detours around me
and carries on its way
as if I'm not there.
I mean nothing at all
to the river much less
the ocean. Butterflies
and birds ignore me
or keep their distance.
I'm treated as only a part
of an earthly whole.
That won't do.
Little do they know
they are paying a price
for their indifference
and reluctance to bend.
I am asserting
my god given right
of dominion
by slowly
killing them.
Copyright © Paul Willason | Year Posted 2025
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