Sunday, February 26, 2017


The Amazonian was felled
And we wreathed the victor
In a crown of incredulous awe
And now all is quiet; all is still
Crowds may away into mists
Till there are only ghosts left
But our hearts keep a chronicle
Tolerance may diminish and rot
But always where there is loss
Flowers will flourish the swifter
Great, profuse blooms of hope
Floral lamps scenting away sorrow
Illuminating any loss of liberation
And upon these trails of beauty; walk
Trace new and stronger paths of equality
For freedom grows best in summer