nightdream

Alas! I lust for seasons lost

not just those past but climate- crossed

projections, too for seasons come

that threaten land our homes stand on

while new extremes arise and spawn.

These early buds that tardy freeze

the endless droughts and dying trees

the floods, the heat the bird-drop skies

the glacier melt and ocean rise

convey a mood of frank demise.

Alas! I long to turn back time

and forestall this infernal crime.

Such aberrant bad-weather runs

portend the end of patterns known.

Now breakdown looms with earth as tomb.

Alas! The ones who rule us all

deny, decry refuse the call.

They lie, obscure distort and blur

to better serve each share- holder

(and do endorse the use of force).

Alas! We must bear witness well

as fate unfurls against our will.

We burned the blanket thickly on

thus from above the beating sun

once captured, held can scarce get gone.

Yet lest we lust for hastened doom

I favor a creative bloom

that nurtures future earth as home

for all the lives still bound to come

as best, alas! it can be done.

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hello, reader :)