Peace Crimes



The Ancient Forest
Exhaled, saying,
Oh righteous one
What sort of peace
Requires this kind of war?

Where peace-angered donkeys
Gather ‘round my shadowed trunks
Hate-filled love songs
Brayed with great fervor

Their Shadow masquerading as light.

Whether called by a vision
Or pushed by a feeling
Our Soul’s magic wand
Repels righteousness
Yet attracts imagination

Now is the time:
Explore your naïve soul
Fertile with its unruly wisdom
Embrace your tree-hugging shadow
You’re at war to save trees

Yet, we trees are here, saving you.

© Lori Fleming, 2014


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