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