The Anthropogenic Era

Dense, gone white from water vapor,
This unyielding prairie sky leaves
Creatures panting in the shade. The
Wind has died, the first to go, but
Others will. The ground is dry.
The leaves are shriveling. Grass
Is turning yellow. Food grows hard
To find. I have my human hoard
Inside, and I can leave my place
Within the shade for artificial cold,
A life of pleasure purchased at the
Cost, for them, for me, at last, of
Ever hotter summers, more
Relentless prairie skies.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 62 times
Written on 2016-06-17 at 22:50

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