Exhaust

The air perfumed by fueled exhaust,
where once a scent of flowers played.
Raw chemical emissions blight the day.
Breathe them in, invisibly, and watch
the world spin the other way.

Rivers brown and muddy,
plastic killing at the core.
Decomposition takes forevermore.
Somber faces, looking up and out.
Deformed fish that wish that they
could shout out loud in awful
disapproval.

As oceans bear the freighters' oil spills.
Blasted, minds of men refuse to notice.
Cloudy skies that weep in ashen hues.
Gone - the deep instinctive nature
of its primal blues.

The eagles scream the coming of extinction.
Claws reaching into eyes that cannot see
the suffering created by the estimated
life span of the free. Roses and carnations,
cut and ordered into death's symbolic forms.
Exhausted - essence reaches for reborn...

? Michaelette ?

10/5/2003
Copyright© 2003 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
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