" . . . you won't forgive me "

it was bleeding . . .

from the leftovers of trees

fell down a drop .

balded hills and slaughtered fields were

waking from a reddened sleep

a piece of sky cleared for red .

clouds rained red .

from the unseen depth of a poisoned ,

black river

was forming a slogan to shout ,

drops gathered to a sound ,
" sorry , can't ache
to the living , the dead are
without pain "