The Reaping

They came to the pier

Some to board the big ship

Others only

to say farewell

Bon voyage! From the shores

They go with god

or a talisman in pockets worn

to another green world

where the grail overflows

Youth carries the cup

to catch the rain

In paradise that awaits

will catch only the sweat of their brow

Clear the forests to open plain

where absent partitions

they sow the seeds of their own harvest

The tip of the spear breaches the shell

or slow poison to soak the soil

Unfamiliar winds sweep the orchards

Carry the distant echoes

of the bells of home

The bitter fruits of disappointment

fall to the ground