The Last Harvest Poem by Leslie Philibert
The Last Harvest
A forest without moonlight
A moon with no light
If there would be moonlight
there would be the shapes of trees.
But there is no moonlight.
Only moon.
Harvesters work the fields.
Shaitan.
Mengele.
Ivory faces with the eyes of owls.
Slices of animals; bloodcorn; plant
the crops of Treblinka and Verdun.
We have stolen the passion of the killing.
last harvest. good write. thanks. I invite you to read my poems and comment.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/14/2024 6:23:58 PM # 1.0.0.1119
the harvest moon is usually the most bright of the year. shedding a bright light on the earth. the work so hard without the light of the moon. nice imagery