Tuesday, February 2, 2016

Our Blue Marble

by Kerry Seymour

Our blue marble floats,
        perfect  
        from a distance.      
Here, mined and fracked,
        aquifers sucked dry,      
        she quakes  
        and sinkholes gape;  
Continents bake,
        yet the coasts drown  
        in warming waters.  
In millennia to come,
        our drying orb
        of desperate remainders  
        smolders, beyond thirst.
This was our only blue marble.

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