03: Puzzles

I saw two frogs a-mating on the track,
Frozen like ice, & then I heard the revs
Of moving car, I stood as still as stone
& watch’d them splatter’d upwards by the wheels
Goo-flesh upflashing, fry-pans spitting oil,
In those sad deaths I found a metaphor
For how this planet’s mechanizing surge
Rumbles blindly along destructive roads,
& by the kerbside hopes of Human youth
Upended as if brawlers roll’d a cart
Upon itself, & scatter’d dreams like fruit
Across the cobbles, bruis’d & value-stripp’d;
Whose are the hands which bend the axle’s truth?
Whose is the sand that scratch’d the diverse eye?
Whose are the boots which crush the fruits to pulp?
These answers are brave truths to understand,
Tho’ some ken scatter’d portions well enough,
To place each piece together from the pile,
& make the puzzle whole is how I’ll go
& how I’ll sing my song, no tender lay
Of love is this, but heed my Druid Call;
The mistletoe is paling on the oak,
The Ozone layer failing to protect
All that our happy ancestors enjoy’d –
But if our caring hearts bind in one fold,
There’s nothing on this Earth we cannot do,
To save this Earth from ruin’s rough demand!

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