Acre after acre left unburnt.
Full families of wolves gone
unshot. & the chickens we keep
to teach our children where meat
comes from are getting nervous.
The wire-thin pen cannot stop
the world from entering. Like how
quitting cigarettes only delays
a mother’s cancer. Like all those
desperate prayers that refuse
to restrain night. Like a country
sealed off by concrete & barbs.
There are just too many stars
to snuff out in one lifetime,
too many gaps in the parapet.
I walk my son & daughter out
into the wild unburnt green
every morning, holding their hands
like weapons, & ask the world
if I’m doing this right. This living.
This trying too hard to make beautiful.