without the cream of human kindness
by T.P. Wilkinson / February 18th, 2018
With all their faults
fruits to bear
heretics to burn
loot to share
In Eden’s garden
with points west
grows incredulity,
spread household pests.
When is truly
strawberry season?
faultless and fresh
faked colours show
irrigated with blood,
(as everyone knows)
picked by the blind
to avoid deceit
strawberries
for the garden
partying
picked to eat.
ploughing
ground buries
truth in graves
not too deep
to be recovered
and burned
while the innocent
sleep.
This article was posted on Sunday, February 18th, 2018 at 8:03am and is filed under Poetry.