The Logging Roads
diesel behemoths churn and pump the mud,
spewing crude oil deep into the dirt.
the drained ground gurgles
and swallows the hooves of straggling fawns.
the earth has been exhausted and trampled.
mechanical decay leaves the air scratchy and cragged.
the dehumidified grass sways thoughtlessly:
its hollow stalks scruffy and mummified,
the remaining trees have been wrenched
into an inebriated, dirty sleep.
night-birthed tumors pool out of their sides.
tree branches croak at the clouds amidst the gloom
before they smash down like hatchets.
bramble wraps up the land in a stiff web,
a dried and cracked wooden fence posed by man.
logs rot where they dropped,
brewing lichen and fungus.
yet in the distance, on the wind,
dives into her day with a song.