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Leona's poem as discussed in workshop:
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<B>Gaia's children speak </B><BR>
The shadow of death was etched upon a wall, <BR>
to stand witness as long as the wall stands. Since <BR>
then, we have walked in this crematorium <BR>
garden. Our grass is green, our roses seem to <BR>
flourish; no one misses innocence, not one <BR>
of us mourns for Eden. We have made ourselves<BR>
at home in the place of destruction, in the <BR>
face of irreparable rents in the fabric <BR>
busy ourselves with small making and mending, <BR>
soiling earth's garment here and there, <I>thinking: it <BR>
will clean. Mother will forgive us once <BR>
again, once again.</I> She turns, oblivious <BR>
in her great sleep, pain ingrained in her <BR>
harvests and parturitions, awaiting flames. <BR>
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