Upheaval

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A poem…

 

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Evil upheaval

Another dead wombat, roadside

always inverted

confirming horrific death

by morning – motionless, cold, dead

gone

.

A mother ripped from her family

a life gone

dependant lives cast into upheaval

she’s not coming back

empty nights, waiting, searching

.

Someone’s roadkill

no mourning

no roadside memorial

just Nature’s maggots

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A family’s world gone

lost to night driving,

lost to special places where wombats once roamed free, content and without fear.

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~ Editor’s reflections from last Monday morning (6th June 2011) observed along the roadside on the way in to Mittagong; now permanently implanted in memory.

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