Michael Walker

Gold Star - 28,419 Points (cv48488)

Consequences. - Poem by Michael Walker

Le soleil du matin rechauffe les feuilles
des jeunes hetres et presque les allume en des lucioles

Je veux que je puisse becher la terre pour planter des pommes
des poires ou des peches sur une pelouse oisive a pissenlits.

Je suis fatiguee de ce bechage des corps humains
que personne n'aima assez pour les sauver de la mort.

- 'Aftermath'. June Jordan. 'Naming Our Destiny', p.158.

Topic(s) of this poem: garden

Form: Found Poem

Poet's Notes about The Poem

She goes from digging the earth to plant fruit trees, to digging up human bodies who no-one loved enough to save them from death. A remarkable transition; it shows real compassion.

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Poem Submitted: Monday, October 26, 2015

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