You were Cautioned

Out there
In the dirty
Shrinking snow
Waiting out
The bountiful
Spring harvest
Of stick thin legs
And those
Scrapping through
Their last winter

Only now
A chain ripped
From mother’s hand
And once again placed
In the fist of man
Has the healthy bodies
Dismembered
Scattered and desperate

Beneath thundering blades
And spotlights
Scattering crosshairs
Over once protected ground
Turned minefields
Of steel teeth and poison
The military mind
Predictably applied
To a process so pure
No bullet can comprehend

The untold consequence
To collective soul and
Cosmic strand
Cheered on by
The sound of
Right hands applauding
An issue for
Somebody else’s
Grandkids