I Still Love You …


If I could walk down your avenue just after a light rain, see the sunrise and smell the freshness of your beauty and freedom; I know I would still be in love with you. But why the smoke stacks? Why does blood trickle into street gutters? Why the uranium? Why the tanks. Why the shackles? Why fields scarred with mass graves? Why the language of another? Why the hidden tattoos of eastern myth? Why are birds scarce; their songs lost in siren’s scream? Why do your mothers bury their children? Why do schools burn in heaps like leaves in fall? Why does your guitar lay silent; your cello mute; your choirs gagged with red scarves. Why do your rivers kill fish? Why is McDonald’s still open and your restaurants rot? Why do your forests burn and hide the sky? Why are your beaches soiled with oil? Why are your churches empty? Why do your hospitals mold? Where are your people? Where is the face I long for; ache for; cry every night for?


Oh, I still love you and I always will. But I will never understand a suicide that kills everything but itself. I never will.


9 thoughts on “I Still Love You …

  1. good morning henry tree! I am just stopping in and actually writing something to you today. I read nearly daily, however, I have managed to become unmanageable–again. In an effort to correct this, I am getting rid of most of my follows and keeping the things that I love to visit on my blog roll. Then I can come to visit and be surprised and attentive to one chosen gem at a time! I am glad that you are here for me to read.

  2. Ah, well-expressed, angry love!

    I have the short answer to your rhetorical question: 90-day profits for corporations that refuse to consider their wider, long-term impact on the world in which we must all live with the wars, articial scarcities and environmental degradation these stupid entities see as just another cost of doing business… over our dead bodies!

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