Just keeping score, keeping track.
More A Burden Than…
Is it not strange
That a planet rearranged and changed each minute
Beguiles someone mad enough
To want to own the stuff:
Climate’s burden, ocean’s rise, species dwindling, all that dies…
More than ‘nough to NOT start war,
Cut further scar, the capture
More a rough, tough burden
Than a virally pandemic cough.
Who would want the onus of
Cracked highways, light and energies,
Loaded down by crises that torment already.
Certainly not you or I.
Yet, the world is filled with baddies blinded:
Seven seldom minded sins:
Anger, envy, gluttony, lust greed and pride –
That makes six.
The seventh, sloth, can hide inside.
(i have a lot of that myself).
At any rate, they do not sate –
Never to be satisfied.
Ignorance, while never mentioned
Is a sin, intention
Leading to defiled plans, designs, mischance;
Malice a by-product.
Thus we come to war and pain.
What remains?
No one owns and no one gains.
More a burden than attainment.
One would think the globe we sit on
Should not be the unforgotten,
Weather-beaten, threatened, flattened…
More a sweetened, earthly heaven.
More A BurdenThan 2.27.2022 Circling Round Existence; War Book; Arlene Nover Corwin
Arlene Corwin Poetry 