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A Mountain’s ViewBy Haemaru Chung QuailBellMagazine.com *Editor's Note: This poem was previously accepted for publication in 'Navigating the Maze' by Adonis Designs Press. When I was young, Grass stretched to the horizon. Dark shades of green dotted the land Where trees and shrubbery thrived. A blue river wound through the valley, A glimmering dragon. Birds cushioned the air, With euphoric rings and harmonies. As I grew taller,
The patches of green multiplied, Creating a woodland before me. Thick with trees, rich in life. Noises from the forest Intrigued and mystified me. Each chirp, howl, and cry a unique story. Stars ascended every night Scattered like scintillating powder, Filling the darkness with hope. I was humbled and awed By these ancients That watched over the sleeping land. Their pale, enchanting light Extinguished the loneliness, Bathing the forest and fields so that Shadows and flickering spirits danced. Glinting tools and blades Left behind flattened fields, Razed the forest. Ignoring dying moans Of animals and ancient trees, As well as my agony. Stumps polka-dotted The cold earth. From the desolation of the land And myself, A wooden town was built. The forest and grasslands are no more. The once brilliant blue river So befouled that it resembles a worm. The primitive wooden town Became a blinding city. Thick with skyscrapers, Rich in people, A city that never sleeps. Crashes, Honks, and Beeps Deafen and confuse me. No longer can I hear The familiar chorus Of the wolf pack at night. Just a defeated mountain Alone in a world Past my comprehension. CommentsComments are closed.
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