Colin F. Jones


He lies below the teary eyes of brothers,
Daughters, sons and all the future Mothers,
A frame of bone from which all flesh has gone,
Compressed by Earth’s desire to rest upon,
The heroes who did fight to win her soul,
Devouring all her plants to claim her whole.
Yet dying for each blade of grass she grew,
That death now germinates life in her anew,
From their decay who sacrificed their lives,
For fertilized by them she still survives.
They fight to claim her yet she must resist
For the Earth must eat its siblings to exist,
Thus while her folk do squabble in their greed,
She plants the substance of her perpetual seed.