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Through Plume of Smoke MAG
November 27, 2011
Sitting at the base of the concrete steps
Her feet kicking at the wilting grass
She observes
Cars flying by
On the asphalt streets,
Modern weaving roads of life
Their exhaust clouding our vision
Distorting perception
Of this growing city
No birds
Chirp at the rising sun
No squirrels
Scramble up telephone poles
In our haste of creating a manmade world
We have thrown nature
To the gasoline-perfumed dust
© Crystal F., Marshfield, MA
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This article has 4 comments.
beautifulspirit PLATINUM said...
on Apr. 2 2012 at 6:51 pm
Great work~ It's time we realize that we are killing our earth.
Labradorian PLATINUM said...
on Jan. 14 2012 at 8:23 pm
Thank you so much for the comment!
byebye said...
on Dec. 7 2011 at 7:16 pm
Great poem! Congrats on the editor's choice, that's a great accomplishment.
I loved this poem, the message that was in it, the impeccable flow, and great word usage. Wonderful work! :) Love it if you'd look at some of mine too.
