(Flower Power by Bernie Boston)

I have seen: new flowers
blooming, die in mud,
trod underfoot
by warring boots;

rifles shaking over pits
hastily dug in mud
as cold feet flower
inside shrinking boots;

blood seeping into mud
as broken bodies
hang from metal wire
like black seed pods,
left as rotting flags;

but with the planting
of a single flower
a young man turns rifles
into mud.

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