The Global Warming 'Debate'

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Pretty much right on the money.

Looking Back

Hard, dull, cracked brown bark;
Green, green moss growing in the cracks;
An old child’s tree-house falling off it,
Boards rotten through and soggy with rain;
The old tree looms large in memory,
But it’s less large here looking at it..

Beneath a dreary February sky,
The withered old tree, covered
in new leaves
and fragrant, white flowers.

Birdsong

Two men walking down the road,
And each not unfamiliar with such company,
Heard a birdsong drifting through sun-dappled leaves
Of stately birches there on either side.
“Now there’s a happy bird,” one said.
“He’s being territorial,” the other replied.

The Blackberry Patch

Patch of blackberry bushes
Sound of water in the creek
Cool breeze on a warm day
Sweat beading on my forehead
fingers, juice-stained
hands, thorn-torn
Sweetness stolen from a prickly, harsh, unyielding thing