Who shall remain to speak of Eden sleeping?
When gone the earth, our splendid garden
left of backward dreaming
and all the glorious twisty tendril reaches
vines to cling to life, anew the greening seasons
Alone the fields in September shades, grains
of wheat and rye will not play, of fall’s refraining
or sing the cat birds strange meowing
Once rows and rows, the fields flowed,
fed heavenly our daily bread
before the GMOs
Unearthly – sick the flocks afield
no bees about, the headless flowering yields
all the gifts, the seeds of life cannot be found again
we’ve decimated Eden