The Silken Tent

The Silken Tent 


The forest isn’t just a stand of lumber,
 for there lurk timid ancient umbrae.
Its wildlife cannot be made livestock
 and remain, cornered in a wooden block.
The river’s more than the power surge,
 that satisfies the demiurge.

You or I
Who will raise the necessary
Hue and cry

Why?
Else this earth, by account of its blind actuaries
Must die

THIS sky from heavenward
 this silken tent
Upon the over-kempt dismaying sward 
 unstayed and limp