Mother Earth

How are you doing now that we’ve plundered 
your gifts to us? Fires, floods render flora, fauna, 
humans desiccated, eradicated. You don’t seem 
like the judgmental type but how can you not 
be disappointed, wounded and enraged? 
Maybe Bezos and Branson have it right we 
might need to take flight for changes of place 
somewhere in outer space. The moon or Mars 
I know not where in either case I’m loath 
to even think about emigrating there. 

I love my feet planted on earth’s soil, 
walk along the ocean and mountain 
oaks unspoiled. I want to live under 
warmth of the sun, feel soft rain 
fall from the sky until the day I die. 
Let’s listen to Greta who advocates 
to take stock and do all we can to turn 
back earth’s climate changes clock. 

Published in San Diego Poetry Annual 2021 – 2022