image from pinterest.com
“Behold a pale horse. And his name that sat on
him was Death; and hell followed with him. “
These halcyon days have fled.
Pale sunshine barely registers day.
Flowers are dusted with sullen ash; we
Might think it’s a nuclear winter, so very
Still and gray and sad--daises dirging. I
Have expected calamity, not this toxicity. It’s
Time to face off with climate change.
To deny it is lethal folly; even
Fruit cannot brighten the hellish haze.
Wildfires blanket the west coast, roaring
like hordes of hell hounds breathing fire,
like rabid dogs, like winged
gargoyles dropping embers
as thousands of fire
Posted over at d'Verse Poet's Pub