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Wounded Earth


Is it as I suspect not that rare for you to be
wounded ravaged stripped of so much
of what you wore with seeming pride

your seething glittering oceans your forests
nothing new for you meteors comets
volcanoes extinctions the battering ice ages

so perhaps we shouldn't psalm poor earth
for truly we moan and despair for ourselves
cast into that future we dread while the time

in which we sorrowed you'll not have regretted
because how can earth not have a past
and how can earth even with a past so fouled

not notice how we departed leaving our heirs
to mourn this patch this sherd of existence
we'd been so confident we'd cherish forever


C. K. Williams

Falling Ill
Farrar, Straus and Giroux


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