The Blue Woman consoles
the bleeding rocks,
tends the lacerated flanks
of the hill upon which
an industry removes stone.

The hill does not shed tears,
or close its heart to ants,
to burrowing animals,
to the deep roots of trees.

The Blue Woman views
the monster trucks and the hole
they put themselves in,
measures the heavy metals
now leaching into the ground water.

The water does not rust,
or drop this burden quickly.
There is nowhere for the slow creek
to wash the dust from its face.

copyright © 2021 Kenneth P. Gurney

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s