Poets have been thinking quite a lot about global warming in recent years: here’s a recent example worth remembering. Will post more as I find them.
The New Dark Ages
Thunderstorms stir me up—
the stillness right before
the first close tremor,
the pond shivering
at the height of summer,
the field full-blown, going to seed.
But this storm scares me.
A foreign climate occupies the land.
When nature was God, in my childhood,
I wasn’t afraid. Snow buried the town,
the river flooded it,
lightning set the woods on fire.
In months the damage bandaged itself
with mosses and ferns.
This storm comes from another
world, here by mistake,
its rain blistering the birch leaves.
Has it been weaponized?
No one knows what to expect
of a storm with human parents.
Things as It Is
Copper Canyon Press