When the birds are gone

Will we care ?

Will we sit outside

And mourn the quiet ?

Will there be

A sense of loss ?

Of missing beauty ?

Of Nature diminished ?

Or will we merely

Go inside

And turn on the TV ?

When there are

No more animals

And we own the earth

What will we do ?

When the wind

Is no longer

Soft and warm

But a raging monster

Tearing off roofs

And whipping fire,

Will we curse Nature

Or ourselves ?

And, when the oceans die

And we own

The stinking cesspool

And the earth

Is a giant landfill,

Where will we go ?

Mary de La Valette

July 2015



The breeze weaves a path

Through the forest.

She bears messages.

She is soft and warm and gentle

But urgent.

The poplar rustles her leaves.

The spruce sways.

The squirrels chatter.

They understand.

There is trouble coming.

Mary de La Valette

July 2015

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