Friday, October 2, 2015

Sharon H. Nelson: Global Warming


Global Warming


This year, different from others
in the long progression
of Laurentian summers
we store in memory
to carry us through winter,
bodies of water shrink,
shorelines reveal themselves.

This year, the hottest summer on record,
the corn stands stunted;
cucumbers are bitter
for lack of water.

This year, no one is grateful
for long, dry days for haying,
the early ripening of crops,
the extraordinary sweetness of wild berries,
the prolonged harvest
of what normally we treasure
because of the brevity
of its season.

Day after day, the sky,
neither blue nor white,
but not quite gray,
looks bleached. 

The Rouge, 
always shallow and sedate,
recedes by feet.

Sandbars shape
as it evaporates.

Parched,
the leaves fall early,
lie curling
inches deep
on the path to the lake.

Brittle,
they crackle under our feet
as we walk towards water,
for the first time in memory,
swim late in September.

Much farther north,
they say: the sun
burns hotter than it did. 

Here, we pick winter apples
in summer heat, knowing
they won’t keep.

Sharon H. Nelson writes about food, spiritual hunger, and cultural identity. She cooks and gardens in Montreal.     ...  about Sharon. H. Nelson

4 comments:

  1. This poem helps remind and warn us of one of the most important issues the world is facing, that of global ecology collapse due to climate change.

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  2. Thanks to Maxianne for posting Sharon's new poem. It is challenging and inspiring. Ilania

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  3. so glad people are noticing. Thanks for your wonderful poem.

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  4. The water, the crops, the sky, nothing is left unscathed by climate change.

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