The Earth Is Changing It's Skin
The earth is changing its skin tonight,
She sheds the old green quietly,
As one who has been wounded too long
And learns at last to leave.
The rivers carry a bitter shine,
Not stars, but broken mirrors of our hands;
The seas remember what we poured into them
Better than we remember what we took.
The trees stand thin as unanswered prayers,
Their leaves like letters we never learned to read.
We spoke of progress, and did not hear
How slowly the forests were saying goodbye.
Smoke has written its name across the sky,
A dark, unerasable hand.
Even the wealthy, with all their doors,
Cannot purchase a clean new home.
The birds fly through a quieter morning,
The light comes thinner than it used to come;
And still we walk as though the ground were endless,
As though the earth were not learning to leave us.
Yet somewhere, under the ash and noise,
The old green waits like a patient word—
If we would speak it, if we would listen,
If we would remember how to belong.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
