Mind Land Fill
I stood upon a gentle hill,
covered in field grasses,
crown vetch and Queen Ann’s Lace.
From my point of view
I could see for miles in all directions,
more hills and trees, roads and barns.
Red winged blackbirds sang and
flew about, lighting on strange
pipes protruding from the surface.
No houses are nearby, no cattle or
sheep or goats. No horses will
ever graze these pastures, these
slowly moving, incredible piles
of human created garbage left to
gradually decay over hundreds,
thousands of years, making this
man-made acropolis unusable for
the foreseeable future.
Out of sight, out of our minds…
KW 6/12/23
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I love how the poem starts happily enough with red-winged blackbirds singing (they’re one of my favorite birds, so I was excited you mentioned them!), but then you reveal to us the landfill’s barrenness that we have created, a place where “no horses will ever graze.” We do often ignore what we cannot see; thank you for unveiling this image to us, so we cannot ignore it.