Lament: bowed heads

(Collage, April 2020)

It started with a bit of whimsy
red rock earth where I first met desert,
animals and exquisite birds stopping by
with an ancient Mayan adding voice.

Burnt matches standing vigil,
matches that light my morning candle,
their presence stirring sadness in me
heads bowed…

a trail of tears over the ages,
lament for cut-up desecrated land,
a border wall 60 miles south,
this global pandemic,
people suffering.

We light candles to remember,
to not forget someone or something,
this virus burning through the world,
the ongoing suffering of nature without voice.
It is not just one thing.

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