The Tyrant and the Blade of Grass

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Yesterday,
The Tyrant pounded into the city
On tanks and soldiers and wanton laughter
Fire burned everywhere

Yesterday,
the grass that did not burn and burn, up and up
was trampled trampled down down
pointing to no escape

Yesterday,
He stood with medals and proclamations at the microphone
and removed the future
from all who did not scream

Yesterday,
beside the dull clamor
one blade of grass stood gentle
in the brown gray wind.

Today,
a children’s jingle giggles a tyrant’s name
the red-cheeked peasant woman carries apples
and the city is a pea on the vast green plain
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