Another Dawn
Restless night, Agent Orange, plums of fire
and burning bushes, silent dawn a flock of
tired birds flew past looking for trees, to sit
and rest a little before flying up north.
The field of almond trees, planted long ago,
without the precision of economy, was now
a battlefield of death, men with chainsaws
walked around looking for signs of life.
A scream of agony flew upwards from
pained soul, exploded into a kaleidoscopic
cacophony, fading against a sky clouded
by white sorrow and spent wrath.
Why cannot things stay the same? A face in
a crowd, everything I loved going, going
gone, the ever changing world, now sky blue
warming sun; afar, a dog barks.
They are planting orange trees in my field
insipid fruit machines, citrus twice a year;
for cash crops my trees had been slain; on
combat zone there is no mercy.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem