I seek an escape
To the clear air
And verdant greens
Of the countryside
An escape denied
By the pervasive pollution
Of northern India
Cast by the weak glow
Of a wan sun
Frustrated by the dull grey
Of the everyday
He stood apart
Waiting for trains
For the one
Which never arrived on time
And for the one
Which would never arrive
Once pollution
Once wildfire
Once winter storms
Twice undesired
Once intended
Often spectacular
Demanding
A different
Perspective
Such hopeful sight
Is breaking through
The smoky sky
Now blue above
And gold below
Backlit, the tone
Of tungsten haze
Then, lower, emerald
Of the trees
These, gratefully
Have not (yet) burned
I find the beauty
In the lines
The forms
And open space
Which let me roam
But we’d brought our seeds
Planted our trees
Spread our grasses
Harvested the carbon
To surface the roads
To refine the fuel
To run our cars
Until
But for a few facts
Of geology
Meteorology
And astronomy
It was a world
Just like home
So I climb to highest ridge
Carrying unsubtle hope
Else bathe below in light’s deceit
But never left
My own backyard
Nor taxed my powers
Of creation
Just let Nature
Take her course
Then revel in
Her machinations
No life
No green
No creatures
Scurrying
(Or so it seems)
I remind myself
The fog sometimes reveals
A scale and depth
Often obscured by detail
Pix to Words 