Cloudscapes, incensed
Thunderheads erase
And Revoke father Sol
Of his warming embrace
Colors run cold
Oppressive. Gray.
Rainbows and earth tones
Flee Catastrophe’s race.

It can happen here.
Fluorescent abuse
Shine surgically clear.
Obscurers of truth
Paint their white veneer
Over crumbling wood.
It has happened here
Like slow, noxious fumes.

Earthly submission
Forest nevergreen
Fields fleeting fever
No soul intervenes.
Oceans a flame
Fuel for the machine
Its Motor’s black plumes
Reach and pray to the obscene.

Still.

We seek our blue skies
And colorful fish
And earthy green pines
With their slow, wooden drift.
Divine, tilled and kept
Not subdued or imposed.
We still exist
If our hearts never close.

Cover Image
Botched restoration of Ecco Homo by Elias Garcia Martinez. Botched editing by me.