nature

Grave Yard

Bushfire moon

an eye prickly with tired

in the night

things expire

by day

the sand’s a ribcage and

there’s always dead things on the beach

is it unusual?

Embarrassed, shy by my

disconnect

I do not know

I’ve been away

it takes a year but

didn’t ask

in case

no one has noticed and

I’m afraid

what that might mean

 

I didn’t set out to write a series of ‘bushfire’ poems but I guess I did and it seems appropriate for this time of year in NSW, Australia as we’re suffering some bad fires at present. Where I am is OK, we are safe, but there’s smoke in the air most days. 

 

Photo: Claire Doble

Up in your shit – and Spoken Word

 

what was red in tooth and claw

is covered now in iron ore

this springtime that I once enjoyed

is today spoilt by the noise

of busy building sites a-groaning

how must it feel for those in loam liv’d

oceans pure and deep and blue

scummed over with plastic refuse

while we finger glowing screens

ignoring slave-mined metal’s screams

Nature thou art but a plaything

for human waste and fattened purse strings

however one does hope, suspect

in the end, you’ll win out yet

 

Soundcloud link – with added building site backing! https://soundcloud.com/user-808707280/up-in-your-sht

Today’s NaPoWriMo prompt was to write a nature poem. Um, now I look again it was supposed to be about a place / animal / thing you know well. I guess I wrote it about the whole damn unknowable world. Hmm…