It’s too late now to say you’re sorry,
I can’t forgive you
even as I die.
I’m watching flowers burning,
dying slowly.
I even think that I can hear them cry.
I hear the soulful wailing of a
baby——
he knows it’s all over—
Dead daisies,
Dead clover,
Burning forests,
A burning pullover,
On the man up the road.
Burning forests, blackened sky,
but even in this,
I don’t want to die.
Saying goodbye to nature
as she grinds to a halt,
Destroyed by the demons
Of wartime thought….
But that is the wrong word,
they never did think….
Oh god! What a stink!
And where are you now sir?
Almighty, m’Lord?
Planting an apple tree
In a new world?