Day 299

Do you say
you will obliterate us?
I tell you the soil is alive,
even when you cannot see
what grows there.
Do you say
we are less than a wind
blowing miles out to sea?  I say
soon the wind will hurl its defiance
onto the land and bear away
your plans, your wickedness.
Do you pretend our children
do not have names?  I tell you
their names will outlast
the cities you build,
the lies you invent.