shovel them under
let me work, two years, ten years
ask where are we now?
Adapted from Carl Sandburg’s poem, Grass.
Pile the bodies high at Austerlitz and Waterloo.
Shovel them under and let me work—
I am the grass; I cover all.
And pile them high at Gettysburg
And pile them high at Ypres and Verdun.
Shovel them under and let me work.
Two years, ten years, and passengers ask the conductor:
What place is this?
Where are we now?
I am the grass.
Let me work.
Frustrated at the lack of change when I thought everything had changed.
Then I realize it has only been a couple of weeks.
This is going to take time.
But I do believe that after two years or ten years, passengers ask what place WAS this.
As Mr. Willy Wonka said, “Oh, you can’t get out backwards. You’ve got to go forwards to go back, better press on.”
No Haiku For You 