Nature in Reverse
So quickly you could almost hear
Their wings flapping near
But the bulldozer has something to say of its own.
Flinging the crass dirt
Into the eyes of
The wind speaks for itself.
Angry that it has no place to blow
No place to go
Since the leaves on top of the trees
Were its home.
Sirens claiming the machinery are going backwards
Sing, but not alluringly,
They scream to stay away
As the clay mountain grows larger
A tiny colorful spot emerges.
The broken peacock wings turned to powder.
Its injured abdomen sickly crunches
As a body would under the weight of a noose.
The world would be so much more colorful
If we stopped and braked for butterflies.