The walrus used to find it nice
to spend their summers on the ice
but not so nice this year they felt,
as all the ice contrived to melt,
and they were forced to reconvene
on land with no space in between,
to loll and fight and contemplate
the broader question of their fate,
but none among them made the link
that people put them on the brink,
and those their fate depended on
stifled yet another yawn.