poet road

A  Poet Road
Now that it is hot and the sun has turned from
a warm friend to a raging enemy, what did I say
to make it so burning hot?

I`m up early and drive around stop and take
pictures of growing plants before the rampant
sunlight makes them lose all colours.

Then before I know it is ten o’clock and time to
sit indoors watching the miserable news
and trivial entrainment programs.

The bush fires of terror are something we have to
live with until we learn to clear the undergrowth
and when needed...brutally weed.

I’m thinking of a man who has a small field of
the greenest vines and every day he tends lovingly
his bushes, you see we should not be too kind.

On the other hand, we cannot poison the land
with pesticide just to save a plant we like, and
forgetting that all life has its place.