Burnt Tees - artikleblak
A Poem During Quarantine
Blackened branches reaching out for oxygen
from burnt THICK contoured torsos rooted into
Mother Terra.
Spiralling branch tips
grey
like Big Mama’s hair
all being smothered by verdant lush new born nature
sprinkled with
tiny little yellow flowers
dancing in the springtime quarantine breeze.
Sisters and Brothers
we are those burnt trees.
The sounds of birds and clear cold Santa Monica mountain water
tumbling over rocks
which some themselves
tumbled down from above.
Mother Nature at Her grandest
whilst humankind is locked in for being at it’s worst!
By the looks of it all
it appears the blackened trees are
gonna survive and
be alright.
artikleblak
About the Creator
Artikleblak
Hello,
I am artikleblak. I am a creative who loves to express my thoughts on the future of society as it pertains to the African Diaspora.
Buckle up. :)
Sincerely,
artikleblak
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