A World of Perfect

Erin Boc

Trees’ leaves gleaming with ease 

The luscious bush swaying along the rhythm of a hush 

Here, there’s no cry of a woman

No outrage of a man

No shout of a child

Just perfection in the wild 

The moose roams home 

With her young walking low below her 

They sway along the river 

Croak- croak – croak 

Of the frogs within 

Twidlee – twidlee- twee

Of the birds beyond

And the silence…

Silence

Of the humans that aren’t here

Who are not present to encroach the circle of life

Who can not murder the future of the pure

Who will never burn our world with their guiltless steamships

Worthless money 

And unbreathable death breath

What are humans? 

How can you even question things that don’t exist? 

But Here,

Nightingales nod with every nimble need 

Packs of wolves hunt the runts of their prey

A mother deer has one less mouth to feed

But this perfect world keeps spinning everyday