Mad Summer Cedars

Once upon a warm summer’s solstice day,

I was born into a world forged in blood,

War is not pretty against a blue sky,

Or the innocence of a flower bud.

*

Recalling a drive through the streets one day,

Looking out to the summer sun shining,

Not so far from the sweat on my hot brow,

A snow tipped mountain high with pride smiling.

*

A testament I thought to endurance,

That dwelt within hot strife, anger, and rage,

Perhaps my mother felt coolness in hope,

That day, like a bird in a displaced cage.

*

Our Cedars still stand in sunny rain,

Strange, as if they too have turned quite insane.