- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Our Mother
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Our Mother
by
Robert Reams
We have stripped the meat from her bones
to make purses and bowler hats.
And stolen the gold from her deepest vaults
to hang from our perfumed ears.
We have sucked the life from her thirsty roots
to cool our burning machines.
And flattened her gently rolling hills
as homes for our motor cars.
When mankind stands in glory
Master of all domains
will feet still rest
on sweet green earth
or her barren, lonely bones.
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