Sometimes In summer
When the weather smothers
I wonder whether the garden knows.
The shape of the hand that mothers
Or the fist that brings the hose.
Flowers wilt and bow in worship,
Begging palms to bring the rain.
Fruit given up in offering
To exchange and then obtain.

The Bees are gone and the butterflies are dying off.
Polar bears climb deadly cliffs to find birds eggs to eat.
Sea birds drown in coats of oil slick on the ocean.
And we sit watching on TV, munching on Doritos
While the news predicts the next tornado’s flash flood
And Canada plus the West Coast are in flames.

What the Hell is wrong with us- have we fried our brains
with TikTok memes and face Book.
Why aren’t we on charter busses aimed
At D.C. and state legislatures to demand
They think of us for once and not the gravy train
They ride collecting re-election funds.

Why do we mindlessly vote straight ticket
Instead of vetting each candidate for
What they’ve done to help the earth.
Then voting out the wastrels.

I know where to rent a bus
Will anybody ride with me.
ljm