It's a Wednesday after epiphany and all I want to do is write
a weekday sort of poem.
Maybe make a stab at beauty - - scribble leaves flaming as they fall
or invent candles flickering in windows.
Instead I'm thinking about the pick-up that swerved too close
to me and my dogs this morning—
about how the sunflowers—radiant, wild— didn't notice,
only went on shooting up in the lot where the factory used to be.
On TikTok, an influencer announces that forests are burning red,
that blue licks at foundations as seagrass
becomes air. In other words, it's Wednesday ,
just another day
when disaster goes on playing with our planet
like some dark, untameable animal
with life caught between in its paws.
About the Creator
Lori Lamothe
Poet, Writer, Mom. Owner of two rescue huskies. Former baker who writes on books, true crime, culture and fiction.
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