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An Imperfect Life

poetry by Fr. Harold Macdonald

The Series

Harvest Thanksgiving

Autumn Leaves

 

Genocide

 

Leaves fall from golden trees,
some blood-red brightly die
no lonely cry
the slinky sun brings all the summer
to its knees.

The first frost
kills a billion beings,
mosquitoes no more to be seen.
One slap of winterís hand and
all are lost!

The waning sun leans south, is sickly
the sunlight slants;
begins again the frigid dance
Antifreeze, the rake, the overcoat
get quickly!

Once more at heavenís choice
lake waters chill
remembering ice. Will
feel the storm, will shiver at the sound
of winterís voice.

Soon night sky is black as ink
cold buffs the stars
the stillness nothing mars
the silent sky knows not we are alive
or are extinct.

Still and cold the rule
winterís frozen death the norm
count not on the momentary warm,
the fickle spring, the hope
of fools.

Stiff in the universal freeze
pure forever, clean as scrubbed
our remains with cold are rubbed
until the atoms are undone;
no sorrow please.

Feast for the while;
then in eternal winter
your unfailing smile!