A Natural Justice
if the earth should turn on us!
I wrote this after the French nation carried out their nuclear tests on Mururoa atoll in 1996 with a possible prediction of a dramatic, climatic outcome.
still
stood the earth
poised…
her pivot palls
her life seeps
as her heart breaks
*
anchored by a slender sliver of light
to beyond and past
she spins…
dying on her axis
her dancing days over
her points blunted.
*
out of the depth she cries
trembling mountains shed icy tears
that slice away her warmth
leaving her barren and distraught .
*
rivers run yellow
with detritus and acid,
tender leaves wither on the vines
their brilliant greens fading
dust billows
puffed up by spring gusts….
and wheat heads fall.
*
the sky rends itself apart
waves rise on distant shores
to beat on the earth
and when…
night turns into day
the enemy recedes and leaves behind…
nothing….
nothing but puddles and tombs
where people once worked and played.
*
where majestic mountains and domed hills
once stood
their beauty stark at dusk
her spinal cord crumbles;
osteoporosis strikes
at her very strength.
*
tree limb-ed mud
slips and slides
stealthily….
silently….
engulfing villages and towns,
relentless as it snakes
down to a flattened earth.
*
oceans spew
seas boil
and creatures turn
upon each other
to find themselves beached
whilst seeking succor from the soil
*
then….
while waiting for the tide to turn
their bare bones
bleach in the hot red sun.
*
hugely she suffers
loss and destruction ….
there is no succor.
*
no longer silent
she wrenches retribution.
a.a.hardy
copyright 1996
all rights reserved
About the Creator
a.a.gallagher
Thank you for reading my words and for following me. I am a collector of stories. I also write to try and explain life's happenings to myself. I write poems about the environment, climate change plus fun rhymes aimed at young kids.
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A Summer's Day
Those fires of a Summer Day are but sombre takes as they beat in memories of affray, forever pierced, lodged in minds and hearts of men; become blanketed thoughts of a scorched childhood. Remember December, forget not the sound of fire as train-like it roars downhill; its will, mission to destroy and kill. Fire unstopped in its violent path, becomes a relentless living, wrath-filled entity that burns all that obstructs leaving only memories of what was. Bigger than man earth fights back. Becomes a force, living, breathing, growing, consuming oxygen, foliage and fauna sweeping life to ash. Remember December and the ignorance of science decriers, those soothsayers of non-belief, fearlessly blinkered old men. The reality of man and his dollar downfall. A conspiracy they said but really economic piracy of our land, at best. Read the science and remember the fires fed by ignorance, those fires of once beautiful Summer days, the heat and homelessness of people now untethered and animals headed for extinction; joyless, personal odes to ignorance. Think long on what was; on gardens of delight, flowers of passion, and beauty now rendered to stubble and angst. Forget not those memories of fearsome, huge, untethered Summer fires. Remember December.
By a.a.gallagher3 years ago in Poets
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