BG ( / )

Nature's Signs, Nature's Time

They swim through the sky waters,
heading south,
Rippling like a beaver’s swim,
wood in his mouth.

Wild geese sense
when and where to go.
Busy beavers know
what to do.
It’s we humans who mix the order
with disorder.

I wonder if the birds know the reason,
the ducks, geese, and doves all in season
When they hear the cracking of the guns,
why those hunters hunt them all for fun.

I wonder if they know the game,
the elk, the deer, and the moose,
When all those hunters are on the loose,
for whom hunting is no shame.

Do they wish that man were extinct,
changed into stone like the sphinx?

Nature’s signs, nature’s time.

Never knew a mother who loved dying so much
to see her children returning to dust.

- August 22,2006

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Comments (2)

Superb poem, Loved it..MAN
Nice piece of work. Thanks for sharing this poem with us. E.K.L.