A young girl
And a man
Worried,
For heartily
They disagreed.
He worked today
As he thought of tomorrow
But she was young
So she was free
To foresee
That when tomorrow pass
And tomorrow rebirth
His heart shall berst
At the plastic
Where was sea
Desert
Where was tree.
For even a bee
On a flyby spree
Heading for a lotus
Can’t help but notice
That he too in the eves
Enjoys the seas and reeds
Where the breeze never cease
Yet
Oil from the soil bleeds
To feed the outcome of his labour
As from his hammering, trimming, screwing, chimming
Matt grey machinery proceeds.
And the master for his subsistence,
Gives the money that feeds,
The school bills pays indeed,
The electricity and internet keeps running,
So young and free
She can already see
The disaster well in making.
The thematic this poem attacks is the generational divide that arises around climate change and climate policy, often leading to implicit distancing or explicit fights within families. I just wanted to show both sides – even though I know which one I stand on.