our obituary

if i don’t take something from you 

ill take the other.

i’ll wash your oceans down to my essence

and eat the dirt that gives you life


 

the schools of fish shall go to my offspring 

never to be born again


 

we’ll melt to the bone and scold one another 

blaming the unknown for our deaths 


 

the children will grasp their mothers' skirts 

and ask them about the color green

that sight for sore eyes meant to comfort the newborn

but what is left for them is

the final dove that croaks its last song

and falls to the infinite dusk 


 


 

how miserable it is to live this life

to be an accomplice in the murder of the world

 


 

Posted in response to the challenge Climate and Our Earth - Writing .

songduciel

LA

17 years old

More by songduciel

  • to live is

    to live is to see the sorrows of others

    to long for the song of your mom

    to stroke the head of your black dog


     

    to live is to see the sorrows of others 

    to greet at the sound of your father’s feet

  • salt cube

    i can only imagine the salt of the sea and

    the schools of tuna that end up in my bowl

    they swim through the eternity that melts into the sky

    surviving the harsh summers

    mating through the comforting winters