Richard Pierce

Life, Poetry

three sisters

scarred earth
 
there were once three sisters
before the days were named
 
fires everywhere
 
tall and bright and pale
walking on the heath
where the water runs down the slopes
 
burning and smoke and death
 
and their magic was mottled
under the greenest leaves
where only they could do good
 
out of control out of reach
 
their path blocked by something
sprung from the broken rocks
malevolent and vengeful
 
no room to breathe broken lands
 
their shaking hands joined in a
circle of innocence and forgetting
the fog rising around them
 
mother nature does not forgive
 
darkness reached for them
and could not find them
could not touch them
 
pain leads us here the lost and wounded
 
the mist clears and there is nothing
but the cleft rock and three birches
lost in the forest’s centre
 
i hug them for healing
as the sky whirls around me

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