Sunday, November 27, 2016

in the room, we come and go

not Michelangelo this time

in the room
words and feelings fly back and forth between us
about the election, about politics,
about the fragility of hope
within a climate where hate seems ascendant,

I leave and sit down by the creek,
all covered in tan and brown leaves,

the water as low as I’ve ever seen it,
for the worst drought in my lifetime
sits upon these mountains,
if humans aren’t messing up the climate,
God surely is made at us for something,

Fall is late this year,
the mountains slopes surprised me with brilliant color,
though we’re only one week from December,

something is wrong in the body politic,
something is wrong in the weather patterns,

nevertheless, what I need now is to sit here
where the world makes the most sense to me,
where rock and forest endure and deal,
despite what we humans unleash in our thoughtlessness.

by Henry H. Walker

November 23, ’16

1 comment:

Glengaryglenrose said...

Something is wrong with the body politic