fat bodied dragonflies
devour the spoils of grass
that has yet to be cut
the pages of a dead man’s words
that turn in my hands
are not interesting to these angels
when i look up
they still frolic
they already know
there are no four leaf clovers in this grass
no luck is destroyed when
living men with dead knives
come to rob their kingdom
one inch at a time
I have been inspired by the way the tradition of eco-poetry seeks to embody the perspective of nature. I think this “speaking for the trees” is a beautiful way we can use our art to give voices to those who can’t speak.