Tag Archives: Climate crisis

Rain

Delicious dampness, fresh scented grey,
Washing the stuffy warm weather away
My soul is a sponge, expanding when wet,
And sunshine’s a word I’d rather forget,
I like the newness of autumn (but its only July!)
The soggy clean clouds that fill up the sky
Change is the thing, after two weeks the same,
Filled with humid hot weather –Thank God for rain!

Copyright © 2016 Kim Whysall-Hammond

It is raining today and more is forecast. This year we have had  many weeks of very hot humid weather. We English are not built for that……

Submitted to the Dverse Open Link Night.

Light from the shadows

Green shoots spring up in fire scorched land
deep roots are not reached by fire or frost
life on our blue globe lurks far and wide
in caves and at ocean bottom
in chemical pools
in basalt rock
life stirs
grows

Copyright © 2020 Kim Whysall-Hammond

Written in reponse to Earthweals challenge ‘Renewal’ at

https://earthweal.com/2020/02/03/weekly-challenge-renewal/

Please go and see what else is there!

Too hot, too hot

Like tracks in the snow
Little lives go
In our melting

 

Copyright © 2020 Kim Whysall-Hammond

Not the poem I thought I was going to write, but the one that came. Another is brewing, but this one is for all the small lives lost in forest fires everyhere…..

Written in reponse to Earthweals challenge ‘Ghosts’ at

https://earthweal.com/2020/01/13/weekly-challenge-ghosts/

Please go and see what else is there!

and we become (the thing that we denied) a refugee

Please read this powerful poem from Frank Prem. We may all be refugees soon:

Frank Prem Poetry

the thought I had
was a refugee

I’ve had these thoughts
before

once in a boat
upon the waters
wide

sometimes
as a thought
in the sky

but lately
I’ve been watching flame
licking at the leaves
on the trees

bringing darkness
when the sun
should shine

and I see photographs
in my newspapers

I see pictures
on the TV screen
of mamas
holding it together
the best way
that they can

of papas
crying

like the world’s gone
mad

and I count
the creatures
that aren’t where
they should be
and my thought
is just a prisoner
to the knowledge
that the world has changed

there’s no koala
there

there’s no blue-tongue

no wombat and
no kangaroo

I can’t see
a magpie

the kookaburra
isn’t laughing

no brown snake
or tiger

where is
the fairy wren

the wood ducks I remember
as a score

are there any left
I…

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