SWEET-SCENTED GRASS

we are destroying the homes of many gentle, and splendid creatures

SWEET- SCENTED GRASS

 

A long journey I declare

This stretch through the brambles

Should lead to my old pasture

My thirst exhausts me

Yet I am drawn to the scent of warm, damp grass

And I anticipate the dilapidated

Red barn to be upright

As I snort, the leaves tickle my nostrils

 

In a blur I see a clearing

But still some distance

Veils my clarity

As I determine the spectacle of buildings

Are my whereabouts incorrect?

Certain to follow the only path

For creatures like me

Ultimately and to my astonishment

The red barn, the watering hole

And the sweet-scented grass is extinct

 

What I discern is house after house

Dispersed, all identical with paltry grass

A virtual devastation up ahead

I bow in repulse, chestnut mane blankets my eyes

Humans shatter my pasture home

Suppose others are comparable

 

Perhaps I will seek a stream

Somewhere in the woods

To quench my craze

 

I sense entrapment, annihilation

Darkness us upon me

I should bed down for the night

 

 

 

 

Author's Note

Thank you for reading!

Reviews

[Patricia Wedel]

Our worst Nightmare… leaving their Countries to ravish our Country … with free everything.

[Betty Hermelee]

Yes I agree! And thank you for your review!!
Truly, B

[John the Baptist]

Well, isn't development lovely? The image of identical house after house is familiar to me, for my once suburban neighborhood has recently been redesignated as urban. Like the red barn of the poem, green spaces are disappearing rapidly. I think the same is occurring in many places.
PS: Your painting style is very evocative, B.

[Betty Hermelee]

Thanks so much John, much appreciated!
Best, B