your own planet

the poetry of dr zen

Thursday, February 16, 1995

Shadows on the wall

A woman crying
a baby with no mother
You fall down
We walk no further
A few cold stones
Arbeit macht frei
You haven't come here to think
You've come here to die
A cough in another room
A shell is landing
a hungry child
no understanding
Battered twisted
deprived of liberty
animals
caged and ugly

There is green grass
rivers and trees
flowers dip their heads
gently in the breeze
And in the night
the calls of owls,
Alone
A wolf howls.

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