Page 25 - A Qualified Acceptance of Sorrow

they might spend a lifetime
making amends

2.
I continued walking and found myself
holding my breath, the stench
overwhelming me before I saw

the pile of carcasses, rotting,
oozing liquid putrification
nearly drowning entrepreneur and poacher alike –

their faces greasy with fat, fur clinging
like a second skin, their heads tilted back
seeking uncontaminated air,

they shrieked from time to time,
feeling against their skin the agony
of each dying creature –

elephant, lion, bear, & all the others
mere trophies, merely a way to make a buck
in a money-hungry world.

I thought as I moved away
seeking air less contaminated by
suffering and death

Is this the only way we understand
suffering – by our feeling it within,
against our skin?

3.
Lost in thought
following the path set before me,
I glimpsed vivid reds, blues, greens

looked again and saw people
tangled in the plastics’ embrace
or buried beneath dark garbage bags

breathing through indestructible straws,
muttering at their fate and the impossible weight