Maybe We Could Stop It All From Happening
Looking out
from Berea’s East Pinnacle,
above green-gold knobs—
a lone hovering buzzard,
benign blooming clouds,
blue sliver of Owlsley Fork Lake—
I can’t see
the flooded lands,
poisonous mines,
people mourning
and adrift.
If only
we could get the world
up here
(two or three folks at a time)—
11 thoughts on "Maybe We Could Stop It All From Happening"
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A change in perspective would do a lot of people well!
Ah, that last line!
Lovely.
I sighed at the
end. Yes, and yes.
Yes, if only! Great little poem. A boullion cube of truth.
I love how this poem circles back to the title. Well done!
Lovely. I’ve never seen that view from a Pinnacle, but I’ve seen part of it from Linda’s porch. I’m lucky that way.
I love everything about this wonderful poem! Maybe I’m just a sucker for sky-related imagery, but “benign blooming clouds” is a beautiful line. Thank you for sharing!
two or three folks at a time- this final line and the specifics of the East Pinnacle and thinking of all of us crowding up there to be at peace for a moment, brings despair and joy smashing together in me
Love the hopeful spirit of this
Great title, and I love the longing in this poem. Yes, if only!
Love this poem! and yes, please, only two or three at a time.