What sound does humanity make
when having possibly lost what
ability it ever had to be true?
I wonder, does the trinity still care,
while screaming hills have cast this
duty onto ourselves without the resolve
of self-reflection; what is love if one
fails to enjoy the falling of a single leaf
on a brilliantly sunny afternoon with a
warm breeze enhancing our senses.
We can be the leaf if we wish to leave
our destructive self-depositions where
they ought to be left to decompose,
and instead enjoy the reinstatement
to see and to be.
About the Poet
Matt is a loving husband and father. The small family of three, along with one very fluffy Maine Coon cat, lives in Maine. Matt is an emerging writer and poet who has recently been published by Z Publishing House where his work of fiction ‘Screaming Hills’ can be found. Matt has also been published on The Drable, proletaria, and was nominated author of the month June, 2018, on Spillwords Press. You can find his mind at work via his blog.