The Brand for Real Change
The brand I wear is for freedom
with elephants roaming wild
of dolphins and whales breeching,
living in family pods at sea.
I can’t abide a captive life for them,
behind logos of SeaWorld or zoos,
circus tents with hook-handed handlers
dishing out abuse among rings of fire.
The brand I wear is for fairness for all
gender identities and persons of color,
to live without fear, to gain and maintain rights,
to move forward instead of losing ground.
I can’t abide the fork-tongues of leaders,
daily barrage of violence and hatred;
people yelling across widening chasms
disregarding beckoning hands of friendship.
The brand I wear is a barren beach,
clean sand with pink shells and pebbles,
free from decaying fish and sharks,
dead sea turtles that ingested debris.
I can’t abide the sight of trash,
plastic washing up on the shore,
sea water a floating raft of death,
collateral damage of human waste.
The brand I wear is for real change
for enough people to care and listen,
to stop environmental destruction,
abandon cruelty, protect the earth.
I can’t abide the human apathy,
silence condoning their behavior
to appear deaf and blind to the chaos;
isn’t it time to wake up and change?
Julie A. Dickson
Exeter, NH
Gray
Gray skin sags over a large frame,
skin and bones you might say
I’m not allowed to graze, forage
as nature intends – I wait.
They throw dried grass, sticks.
I amble over to the pile slowly
as my feet are sore and cracked,
pavement hard; it’s been so long
since I felt dirt and grass beneath.
Where are the trees for my itchy hide,
branches to pull on, pungent leaves?
I crave to wander; my eyes close.
I see my herd, ears flapping, rumbles
through the ground, joyous voices,
but when I look again, I am alone -
lonely and penned in, no herd here
just the loud voices of my captors.
Julie A. Dickson
Exeter, NH
A
wonderland of nature
sings
a song of mother earth
plants
and animals grow
celebrating
every birth
Listen
to the river
flowing
out to sea
rustle
in the tree tops
birds
call out to me
Hear
the cattle lowing
and
dogs up on a hill
footsteps
in the forest
beneath
the walk until
whispers
from the cloudy sky
cool
breeze blows my hair
scan
the distant mountain range
across
lakes and valleys there
Like
ancestors from our past
worship
moon and father sky
cherish
earth our mother
don’t
let her beauty pass you by
Sit
upon the granite rock
contemplate
the far off plains
sing
a song of mother earth
in
this land where nature reigns
Julie
A. Dickson
Exeter,
NH
