Nov 12
poem challenge: Urgency

The firsts and the lasts

Climate Change Contest: Bronze

When will the last owl fly
Calling out for why and who?
When will the last wolf howl
Up at a heavy silver moon?
When will the very last salmon
Swim upstream to spawn?
When will come the final sparrow? Crow? Finch? Swan?
It's going to be in my lifetime, I fear,
Though I hate to make this about me,
For really it's about the birds and trees and fish in the rising sea.
It's about the lists we make, calling them "endangered."
When, of course, it's our own fault, and we were too slow to anger.
The human mind loves to categorize, 
Even as we drive them and us extinct.
We won't be the last, but we sure are the first
On our planet, to think and not think.