Arts + Scene » Poetry

After They Lifted the Statue Up,


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we could see the indentation left
on the ground where it had stood
since before the First World War.

Covered up and compressed
for over a century, the earth
suddenly felt fresh air.

Sunlight, moonlight, stars, wind and rain
drew worms to the surface.
Long dormant seeds split and sprout.

Between what was and what will be
every person leaves a mark.
Yet everyone's mark is eventually effaced.

Even our histories change.
Depending on who writes the stories.
Depending on who read what is written.

That happened then.
This happened now.
The earth never protests.

It signs no petitions,
attends no rallies,
and needs nothing from us.


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