The balks lie side by side.
like hares after killing,
like raw material for rafts,
like the younger brothers after the massacre,
needed for fun and depopulation.
They grew calmly
the the pine cones fell
not from one tree.
The juices went out like blond.
They did not howl, though they do it while standing,
even standing against the butcher.
They did not howl because they lack a tongue.
Suddenly they were stripped of
their sky view.
It was recognized they didn’t need the sky.
Sparks of tears were flowing down
like after the harvest.
They do not have to die that are sick.
They are children of the same god.
Do these lying pine cones down have
to be ashamed for someone
by now or then?