Thursday, November 6, 2025

Poem: Accusation

 

Accusation

 

pinecones bob in wind,

pointing every which way.

 

we know! we know!

 

so many tines

flipping off humanity.

 

isn’t it obvious? don’t you see?

 

we the people, however,

don’t care if the pines have a right to speak.

 

we go about the task

of paying to have them cut down

 

as if it were our duty.




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