by Thomas Davis
In North Dakota’s winter frost drives deep
Into the ground, soils compacted tight
Until, in spring, the ground heaves, water seeps
Into the soils, and land begins to write
The story of another spring, the slow,
Implacable force nature heaves and cracks
Into the manmade things, the bravado
Of buildings, pipelines, streets, steel railroad tracks.
Inside an empty field an apple tree
Has grown into the crumbling of a farm.
It stands where once a lively family
Built walls to keep them safe and free from harm.
This pipeline will not ever fail, they say.
It won’t leak. Not a minute. Not a day.
fourwindowspress 
UGH to the pipeline. Good reflective poem.
Yes to sustainability and Mother Earth. Thanks belasbrightideas
You have poured your not inconsiderable skill into a sturdy sonnet with much to say, appealing to both mind and heart.
May Ben Naga’s infinity swirl into forever.
We do what we can.
What Ben said! Another topic which is heartbreaking. (Gaia is beyond weeping now….)
I have never written poetry that is too political. I think I’m changing, Betty. Thanks for the comment.