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Sunday, August 5, 2018

Sub Storm

by Michael H. Brownstein

Today is Friday, tomorrow the beginning of next week,
An angry grumbling of earth, the heat a shower of shame,
Rising water, a plastic death to the ocean, things look bleak.
Today is Friday, tomorrow the beginning of next week.
Where is the Cuban Coney, the Sardinian Pika, the prairie leek,
The Jamaican Monkey, the Bulldog rat, the prame?
Today is Friday, tomorrow the beginning of next week,
An angry grumbling of earth, the heat a shower of shame.

1 comment:

Moristotle said...

These poems deserve some comments. WHERE ARE THEY? "The angry grumbling of earth...." One might think the earth is angry and might be grumbling, yet its creatures die so silently, quietly, acceptingly, like a German shepherd who senses its end is at hand and looks deeply into its human friend's eyes before going off into the woods to die, not to be found or even seen again by the people who loved it.

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