The land here is strong,
it feeds beneath my feet
but plant time and watch
the corpses grow.
From perennial seeds
of yesteryear,
insipid shoots prod
vicariously at black
organic remains
to become needy,
grasping weeds
in search of nurture,
causing gaping wounds
so soon in the upper earth,
draining the soil’s energy,
draining our freedom –
sucking fresh sunlight
crept into cracks between wars
melted into those darker shades
of death; squatted cats do their thing
while time weighs heavy
on earth’s shoulders.


Author: Anita Lubesh

I write poetry/prose/stories/short stories/verses for children/sketch/and have 6 chapters of a novel sitting there like that half eaten trifle in the fridge or bottle of Jack Daniels because something makes you afraid to eat it or drink... right now.. I am a proud Geordie from England's northern hemisphere and the beautiful city of Newcastle upon Tyne. I live with my lovely husband who came all the way from sunny California just for me, and my favourite animal, Bobble, our dog. I am a member of Greenpeace and Friends of the Earth and wish we could all do more, especially today, when such a lot is wrong.

6 thoughts on “Shoots”

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