A Shift of Perspectives
I do not write of trees today
Rain forests doomed from the first time
The caravels slant across the bay
I do not hear bird songs
Silking sunset or dawn
Today I am warrior
I am on the streets of London too
For more from democracy is due
Not just a voice anymore
But a place we never had before
At the table of equals
Reversing the minus sum of history.
And If I die here
If I never return to feel your body
Where I poured my love before
Then mark my grave with a tree
And let a blackbird cry for me.
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