Nature does not notice

the sorrow, but notices

destruction, knows destruction,

occasionally reminds us that

we will die.

 

I search for black swans

and find them only in my mind.

 

Are their feathers waterproof?

Are ours supposed to be?

Our breath does not seem

sacred, not to those who

do not seek.

 

Eat up, they’ll say -

let us forget.

Throw it out when we’re through

and remember our children

will never hold the weight of

the next mouthful.

 

We’ll leave the mess for them to digest.

It is now or never - right

this second - now and never

again.