Waking from my sleep last night, I looked out my window and into the skies and saw thousands upon thousands of blinking red lights, warning of an emergency, warning of an emergency called warming. These were the skies themselves speaking. "Urgent, urgent, urgent -- emergency."
I wandered outside and down along the river. The lights were blinking in the trees, and in the rocks of my footpath. They swirled in the rivers, blinking and shining as they cried: "I am not just a river that can drown. I, myself, am drowning. Your pollution is killing me!"
I listened to the wind, and in the wind, I could hear the emergency sirens blaring, the horns a honking. "Urgent, urgent, urgent -- emergency."
If the earth could speak, this is what it would say; this is what it would cry. With emergency lights a flashing, it would scream: "Urgent, urgent, urgent -- please save me; please spare me. Help! Help! Help!"
(Index -- Stories, story, My stories)
(Index -- Climate change info)
(Unfinished poems)
No comments:
Post a Comment