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Tuesday 21 July 2020

355. Does The Sun Still Shine?

Startling as the mishandling of covid-19 has been in supposedly developed countries such as the UK and US, the background of climate/environmental decimation and the way that all remains – well – in the background, astounds me more. Following on from last Tuesday’s post I’ll swing back to the ‘other’ problem.  Although in fact it is not a separate problem it is part of the same problem (again, see the last post). I have no doubt that future generations, if we allow them a future, will look back at covid-19 as we look back at the flu epidemic of 1918 – a dreadful historical event that passed. Meanwhile, as the icecaps melt and polar bears precede us to extinction (see yesterday's secondary news), humanity’s clock is ticking.

At present, we are being distracted by the havoc wreaked by a swollen town river while a continent-obliterating Tsunami is inexorably rolling to shore…

 

So, this week – a poem from my dystopian novella - Zero One Zero Two


Does the Sun Still Shine

 

Does the sun still shine

Do rivers still dance

Do breezes caress the trees

Does an apple still blush on a branch somewhere

Do flowers still flirt with bees

 

Does a waterfall crash where nobody hears

Does the Okavango delta still

Wash with Africa’s tears

 

Do elephant bones lie bleached and broken

Are shorelines kissed by the sea

Are dead cities shadowed with ghosts and regret

The great whales just a memory

Is there a footprint left by me

 

Does a white moon glow where nobody sees

Could cathedral sunsets

Still bring me to my knees

 

Does the kestrel cruise with a predator’s grace

While a vole marks his shadow, beware

Are the turrets and towers toppled and gone

Are the Great Plains stripped and bare

Is there anything there

 

Does rippling heat flatten the desert dust

Where scorpions arch and cacti pose

And camels have wanderlust

 

Are mountains still dappled by giddy cloud

Is my memory only a dusty store

Pale pretty pictures of paradise

Images of things that are no more

An empty room without a door

 

Our plundering and ravaging bore malformed fruit

Are the oceans and skies forlorn

Are forests blind and mute

 

Or

 

Does the sun still shine

Do rivers still dance

Do breezes caress the trees

Does an apple still blush on a branch somewhere

Do flowers still flirt with bees

 

Does a waterfall crash where nobody hears

Does the Okavango delta still

Wash with Africa’s tears