Little Fe(a)t

Across the road

in a small gathering place

elementary children sat

in woods conjuring

fantastic worlds beyond knowing.

While sitting on logs,

heroes pretended

with protecting swords

saving the weak.

One morning

a kindergarten girl

stole in the gathering place

imagining pretended fire

occupied logs

in a summit of conversations.

Realizing her solitude

imagining hands reached

the sky dissolving in-between treetops:

a confluence of man and nature.

A broken thought interrupted:

Why is it so hard to tell the truth?

Trees answered


beyond a single moment

representing all moments,

as witnesses of harm:

nothingness is easier.

Senseless harms

let houses burn

skies smoking war

or oceans disintegrate.

The winds howl,

shook branches

pointing to bystanders

with closed eyes

shielding fear, then

returning to circles

around fires

killing all things

outside the circle.

In the clearing across the road

in the small gathering place

children sit in woods

conjuring fantastic worlds beyond knowing.

Sitting on logs around a pretended fire

planning futures

pretend swords

protect damsels in distress:

heroes saving the dangered weak.

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