They split open the month of June
and gut her eternity,
leaving the autumn rain
to pour down the naked wound.
The winter winds lash and weep
for their familar caress--only to find the shadows
of rocks and mud, the blood of heaven.
With April's fragile memory
they plant grass on the corpse
hoping to fool the horizon, hoping
to hide their sin.
Stop Mountain Top Removal in Appalachia
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