At night, the trees bend hard. The crows are awake, chattering their secret language in the darkness.
“It’s not too late, you can still look back
at the red towers of your native Sodom,
the square where once you sang, the spinning-shed,
at the empty windows set in the tall house
where sons and daughters blessed your marriage-bed.”
When he called for help,
they put him on hold
longer than he could stand
and he broke
the phone in half.
What’s wrong, you ask.
I’ve breathed your dream too
long, I say. Now I must wake.
So beneficial is exposure to the natural world that a new global movement has arisen to declare access to nature a human right.
Feckless democrats or reckless authoritarians: Lifeboat Earth doesn’t stand much of a chance with such options.
how ridiculously grateful I am now
for whatever divine forces brought me here,
to this very porch, this very summertime
He went out. Into the ocean’s black maw. To save. To rescue. Didn’t, as they say, come back. Death is funny like that, precise, dissolute.
3 a.m: Startled again in the mirror by my huge head.