The Blinding Truth Is All We See
Bodies scattered
buried
washed away
in memory
lost in decay
following the pattern.
History scattered in the wake,
a new page a clean slate.
Poisoned in its make
Coal blackened wells
I drink from them knowing nothing better.
It’s the water,
the well,
been here forever.
Forty miles away there is a mine.
Ripping at the ground, digging.
Growing and spewing tailings,
Uranium ore 95% is still in there,
what is taken is but a splinter.
The ore bums into our lives.
A breath at a time
decaying,
children unknowing,
we build houses from radon brick.
Play in toxic piles of deadly dust.
A growing mistrust,
there is no certainty.
Cold blue water gets the best of me and i wash,
rinsing off days of dust and sweat,
clean water cold and pure.
My dog is drinking,
rolling,
In the small blue pools nothing is growing.
Clear clean pure,
something is not here.
Life is missing.
Within this blessing I feel a betrayal,
a lack of what I was seeking.
Beds nurtured on the banks
sandbars built over years of tending,
planks laid across the pools.
Cultivated fruits carried to the mesa,
hiked across steaming desert,
a delicate framework for survival.