For today’s OctPoWriMo tree prompt. Not hugging, but sympathising with. The form is one the Oracle whispered to me yesterday. I’m calling it a Sevens until further notice. And yes, I am sick and disgusted and depressed about the laxist attitude towards the massacring of our wildlife population by a tiny minority of middle aged men with guns. The wind blew hot and hard all last night. Sunday is the chasseurs’ especially productive day.
These trees are angry, listen
to their voices, the green-leafed
fury in the rising gale.
Acorns pelt and dead wood, yet
when the cold stars have faded,
tomorrow it will come, with
furtive gun-metal breath, death.
Jane Dougherty Writes 
If only they could feel the anger! Powerfully expressed.
Politicians and the rich and powerful have skin as thick as rhinoceros hide. If anyone remembers what that’s like now.
I agree! Soon rhinos and the like will be gone!
The white rhino already has.
So it has…
One more nail in the coffin.
Acorns with poison darts?
I like this form. I’ll keep it in mind. (K)
I read about your square poem yesterday and I think this is a variant. Seven is a good number.
I’d truly rather there were no guns at all. Thank you for writing this angry poem.
There’s so much hypocrisy around the manufacture, sale and use of weapons. We cry shame when one foreign country turns weapons on its own people, but who sold them the weapons in the first place? We say isn’t it terrible when children are shot at school or in their homes, but we defend the right of the nutter who did it to own a gun.
Very well put 💜
Thank you!