A casket upon the ground.
No one around to make a sound.
An abandoned coffin on the hill.
The hill is quiet, all is still.
No lingering sobs or mournful cries
No shouted protests where no one hides.
The sun above knows no early, knows no late,
nor does it care about why we hate.
An abandoned casket so described,
where there’s no more YOU, no more I.
Upon its lid no one sees,
a single word: Humanity.
©January 2016, June 2020 Christina Anne Hawthorne