Visions of Old Earth


59

The oceans warm
Between my finite eyes
The motions of the dipping galaxy

Visit my planet like birds
To see the forests gone
Morning’s amber roads

Where the news is never good
My planet makes money
On the insurance of the dead

The image of aged cities
Does not satisfy the heart
The future hath no hospitable intuition
For this company of greed.

Photo Courtesy: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Sacred-Land-404849999