One star blazes above the slivered moon,
beaming on rubble below,
points where once the Towers of Tulsa stood,
once with pride, blasphemed the gods
that rode the clouds,
that smote them with their lightning rods.
While the winds of change
wiped clean the prairie where once
in arrogance they stood
... millennia ago.
While a star hangs out,
the fields wave back.
Once more the grass grows green,
alone, beneath a slivered moon.
Author's notes: A "star" was hanging out over the crescent moon, like one sees on some of the Middle-East country flags. This was on a spring night in Tulsa. The weather in Oklahoma is humbling and violent. So I thought that even our man-made towers are not immune and a millennia from now ... ? Peace, Kåre.
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