Foreign Roots in Desert Fall. <br /> <br />It is sad to watch the big tree wearing a vast crown of hubris, <br />casting demonic shadows it allows nothing else to elevate. <br />Blows leaves of steel and stop anything that may help a small <br />bush grow. Once this tree was admired, an example how fast <br />arid land, fit only for the native Arabs, olive trees and goats, <br />grew into ten thousand blood dripping roses. In time, <br />countries far away came to fear this tree’s voraciousness its <br />boughs try to strangle the world; it is as it needs to govern us <br />to feel safe. Until we saw its weakness: ” This is a frantic tree, <br /> a foreign plant in agony it has lost its purpose, has no ethics. <br />Worse of all its bark is scabby, roots are shallow; the tree can <br />tip over if our anger and disgust get to be a lashing hurricane, <br />which upend the tree; and its leaves will forever restless rustle <br />on the road to nowhere.<br /><br />oskar hansen<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/foreign-roots-in-desert-fall/
