History

By Michael Emerald

Birds wailing on an oak tree.

Gentle winds blowing,

Leaves dancing to the rhythm of the wind.

A greybeard leaning to the Oak tree.

Seated in his face – an archeologist 

under the tall tree, wanting to gather information of the past.

The old man breaks kolanut 

and starts ranting

“The cracked mud house

will show you 

if you care to see, the

stains of blood from the guns

shot over a hundred years ago

but it will say nothing.

The flowing rivers

inside the sand of it’s bed

will grimly show you honors 

buried over a hundred years ago

but will tell you nothing.

The caves in the mountainside

will grimly show you, if you care

the skull and crossbones 

of people who sacrificed

their souls for war,

but they will tell you nothing.

Shadows of the past

would reflect in present life.

History will always find a way for itself.”

Copyright© 2020 by Michael Emerald

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