My children, my children,

my jewels of my heart.

Time, death, and distance

will ne’er long us part.

The one Lord,
from the two branches hung,
three days in the grave,
the four quarters saved

On the 29th of June
a foreman of my own people,
men at work of my own people,
and the great machines we built,
knocked down the pines

not for timbers
not for hearths
but for being in the way

They pushed the soil tumbling
down the slope,
leveling,
the pale dirt and stones
from far underneath
not meant to be seen
now spilling broken out and pushed
then compacted

Coming Soon! Your Dollar Store!
For consumption was
the consumption wrought

Is there no end to debt
and spending and
obesity?

Heaven, raise the mountains up
and make the valleys low
again