Jason Lowes Poems

The wind in a hurricane,
The moon on a summer’s night.
The sun breaking the horizon
And dew at first light.
...

As the pillars of concrete grow all around them, shadows are cast over the flowers who search for the sun.
Roots tangle and strangle each other’s homes as they look to find a place to call their own.
Rain falls like bombs on an unsuspecting city.
They crash and splash onto the flower heads hiding amongst the scarce green grass.
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The beginning is just; the beginning is right,
the constant wailing and constant fight.
To discuss the discourse of freedom’s first light
will take us forever into the damning night.
...