"Civilized"

a poem on what was left behind

So gathers the human-animal, boots treading roads where there once wound rivers—now filled-in with silt and stone, where none can drink and fish never swim.

Red fills the cracks of old forest paths, now paved and clean, where towering trees once told secrets to all that dared to wander; where gods walked among gods, bowing low to pray among moss and root.

Overlords look down from mirrored towers, collecting on their gamble and wit; money passes between clapped hands; deals signed, lives snuffed before ink dries. The mirrors speak when spoken to: tales of greatness, of purity, cunning and lies. It placates them, the so-called “masters”, hiding from their soul-wilt and rot.

Somewhere away, a deer leaves a hollow wood; a rugged bell tied among antler and bone. He shivers; the bell resounds over the greening field. None hear it. It is matched by a rumble; trembling earth. Dark clouds call back over a distant city. He turns, drawn by the threads of birdsong that stitch him among the tapestry of a wild world. Passing among the trees, he folds back like a prayer among morning mist; a remembrance of what was,

what could have been.

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