People
Quiescent along the ebbs
And crests of green robed hills
Lowing in silent activity.
Thoughts without words
Ideas without mold
Ascending with force
Preceding knowing.
Young minds
Harmed by the hurt
Of a torn umbilical
Sustaining misdirected bleeding.
Spiny descendency
Transposed dejection
The joy surely of prisoners
In a land known as free.
Here
Among the fallen leaves,
There are no men...
Only children.