Sheltered In Place

they will never know the stillness,
the silence, as the world hushes
when the first snowflakes drop out of the sky.

they will never feel the crisp air
or see white blanket the fields
as it does every year.

kept indoors,
safe and warm,
where humidity breathes,
where mist showers from above,
and crawling critters burrow,
where life continues.

under wraps to avoid
a deep freeze,
never a first blossom of the year
but life sustains
returning
again, and again.

among rows of green
as infants in a nursery,
this is the only place
sprouts now grow.

under a careful eye
we’re both determined
to stay alive.

Call It What It Is

Heatwaves radiating across the country,
common occurrences every summer
now occurring every season.

Summer stretches long into Fall,
makes a cameo during Winter
And begins earlier every Spring.

It’s a heatwave, they say.
No, it’s global warming.
No, it’s now called climate change, haven’t you heard?
No, that’s all fake news.
It’s only a heatwave, you see.

Varying heatwaves from place to place,
it’s unheard of in cities without air conditioning.
And now 130 recorded in the middle of Death Valley,
it’s a long streak of near-death experiences for everybody.

Sure, tell them it’s just another heatwave while our friends melt in the sweltering sun.
Tell them it’s only a heatwave when the final glaciers breakaway.
Tell them it’s only a heatwave, I’m sure they will soon believe.