Let Us Be Summer Stars
Lessons beneath a smoky sky
In Vanderhoof, B.C.-- that’s Canada--
We sought abroad what, once, Grandmother saw:
A cabin in the leafy woods, once stood,
A lake, smiling sun, a sentinel wood.
Shy and snaking roads crawled to circumvent
Still, we arrived to stake our humble tent.
A roof of stars, a gleaming stream, but haze
Moved in, southerly razor winds blew blaze.
The west on fire. The west on fire! Weep tears!
Elders, dead--not stars-- can’t throw brilliant spears
They can only glare as weighty shadows
At a toxic greed that blackens meadows
Let us become stars, in clear heavens hence
To light new worlds of ours with summer sense
About the Creator
[email protected]
Christyl is an ecopsychologist, writer, and farmer.
She likes cats, too
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