In this country

[simplemind]

In this country
In this air
Where these trees grow
Where clear air flows
Before, behind, above
And through the throat
Flows a cool and crystal stream
To where the milk white domes
In an all-embracing curve
In this country,
In this air,
Where these trees grow
Poised and moving
As a flame intruding
Projects through rings of encircling dark,
Where sweet air flows,
And the slim trees grow,
In this country
Festers hate in fetid wounds
Infection floats on fluid air
Anger roars in the placid night
And the dark is drizzled with our tears.
Dennis Brutus stubborn hope.