Highway Cut / by Brian Kunde

Highway Cut
by Brian Kunde

In the highway cut,
each year returning—
blood of the earth,
so sorely wounded.

Earth forgets not;
hurt, it heals not—
not in a span
that man may see.

Sky sheds its tears,
washes clear winter's scab—
and yearly, in their wake,
earth bleeds.

Upwelling blood of earth,
ablaze anew—a funeral flame,
speeding down the cut,
up the hillside—

Mourning the beauty lost,
Earth its sibling births—
blood of kindred slain,
crying out from the ground.

Each spring the old wound
blazes—bleeds anew,
bleeds its beauty,
and seeds its bounty
of scarlet flowers.

* * * * *

Highway Cut (B-0215 [B-133])

from Millennial Verses : poems, 1st ed., Dec. 2000.

1st web edition posted 1/2/2001.