Whimpering Psithurism

Submitted by Ann Neilson

Effervescently pace the foliage,
Lithe fairy footsteps careful to step untrodden ground.
The trees shift and tremble, projecting history into forbidden spaces,
Dark, unforgotten places revealing ghostly shadows, distant war heroes—
the selfish plight of war that ignited pain continues imprinting bloody carbon marks within the roots.
We misshape the land beneath our pitter-pattering—
They stomped with chemical-laden boots.
Mother earth cries bitter tears frozen by this winter wind,
biting whispers blowing lies of freedom into her hopeful heart.
Her cracked soil and crisp limbs moan and creak.
Her heart has long ago since shattered,
Only to be replaced by manufactured glass shards shaped and molded by unpaid hands.
Ethereal memories and unpromising futures destroy—
Watch as the dim night struggles to throw her blanket upon our souls dutifully,
Striving to envelop us with Mother Nature.
Turn not a blind eye and acknowledge how we’ve ignored her.


 

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Photo Credit: John Constable – Sketch for The Hay Wain

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The Vita Brevis Team

“Ars longa, vita brevis" (art is long, life is short). This maxim so moved us that it seemed only right to title our online poetry magazine after it. It may seem curious that we chose Vita Brevis (life is short) as our title instead of Ars Longa (art is long). But this choice was more than appropriate; after all, the aim of our journal is to publish work that shows a keen awareness of not only art’s beauty and immortality but life’s toils and finiteness. We want to revive and nourish the rich existential literature that forms when art and the human endeavor collide.

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