You Would Never Even Know It Poem by Patti Masterman

The world was crushed flat,
Against the breadth of a storm
That circled round the trees,
And took things airborne.

Then it threw them back down,
Hard into the mud,
And into large puddles
Of brown earthen blood.

The animals were quiet
Till day came to reveal
The tale of their plight,
Though the carnage lay still.

The birds nest uprooted,
And young dead on the ground;
The Cardinal's babies murdered
When they were tossed down.

There are no funerals now,
And there are no wakes;
For birds accept quietly
What nature gives and takes.

No loud lamenting
What the storm has done;
No regrets or goodbyes
Beneath the setting sun.

No cemeteries to visit,
No church bells to clang:
Most animals survive
By hiding their pain.