MRI       (mountain lake)
 
MRI The young brave stomped brown bare feet. The unkind ground was dry. Just one drum did rhythm beat, then water flowed from the earth that cried. A single feather limply hung on top a pole in center stage. Stained by blood, black and dried, ushered in the atomic age. A vision changed to battlefield, the acrid smoky air held stiff. There hangs a pall of things now dead, useless battle, human error. Our world’s distraught, by man’s failure to live together peacefully. Making mockery of our forefathers pride, now many voices raise. These war machines we fancy made the guns in rapid fire well laid respect non now, alas those days that made man’s prospects useless jade. Once again the young brave circles still the ground is dry and cracked. Now the feathers hang washed in blood, actions we cannot take back. Janet Louise Holman
Praying for Peace