Framed in a window
is the picture of progress.
Cars planted where
wild grasses once grew.
Telephone poles marching
where oak trees towered.
And we claim to be
a modern civilization.
It’s so brutal, our progress.
Copyright 1975 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman
Sometimes, when I go through my old journals, I'm struck by how much things haven't changed! Maybe because we've become so accustomed to our parking lots and telephone poles? Do we convince ourselves that they have their own beauty?
No comments:
Post a Comment