#death
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by Michael Plante I am a product of governmental ignorance.Designed and molded by an outdated church.So the stage is set.You are the audience; I am the antagonist.The curtain of obscurity rises, and the play begins.The price for this show was your vote,instilled by the same government that wrote the play. My appearance is distastefulmy performance…
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by Michael Plante There’s a field where flowers come to rest:the sun shines as if only for them.Cascading winds sways the soulrhythmically as one they enactyet as a smile they are unique. I met a flower before her restshe shone a light just for me.She told me of a beautiful placeawaiting us all; her belief…
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by Michael Plante The old red tractor sits in an open fieldgolden wheat sways from a warm breezebetter days have passed the tractor bynothing now but wind and dirt. discarded by timethe old tractor still plays a parta symbolic jester to history’s ledgerwhat was due, and what was paid. twilight’s eye captures the tractorpays homage…
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by Michael Plante The time on the clock stopped at 12am.far off in the distance I could hear the motors of the waiting trainsthe sodium lights cast an orange hue into the darknessfrom the yard where the nightshift worked. The humming of the motors lasted into the nightand I sat there with you one last…
