Not so stealthy as a virus
But with a smothering effect
Which would someday seem
Not so unfamiliar
A dis-ease
From which none are immune
And all are infected
Grim hope
Bleak finale
Reset: next!
For every thing
The creatures made
Five other things
Were thrown away
For every turn
Of every cog
The fuel they burned
Created smog
‘Til over time
Before too long
In fact, before
The fuel was gone
Their world could not
Sustain their waste
The climate changed
With break neck pace
So am I reminded
A threat may seem remote
Or weak in its intention
But a threat it is
Toxic in its notion
I do well to heed an atmosphere in tension
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
Pix to Words 