Blue skies in February

Over look the expansive ugliness

Of imported dirt

Brought in to make things flat

Clearing earth for progress

The telephone wires

Cut the horizon

Like a police barricade

Between the unnaturally new

And the majesty of the ancient sky

Reforming Creation

Like a weak god

Constructing away the chaos

Into cookie cutter cul-de-sacs

For the cause of convenience

The concrete curbs scream separation

Standardizing the flow of the fallen rain

Away from here

Here all the water

Must first be bottled

As a reflection on sacrifice I don't know what to say except that I don't much. I didn't I mean. I was going to but I justified not doing it pretty easily. I kind of meant to do better which I think counts for something, or maybe not. I wish I weren't so caught up in my ideas. Or better yet I wish I was caught up in better ideas, maybe ones that I won't even claim. Some thoughts I could attribute to other people. But than again I'm too proud to do that.