Catastrophic, on the edge,
an unbidden darkness
clenching us all as we fall
the poor go first
no resources for protection,
while the rich watch
thinking themselves invincible behind their
walls of money,
which only burns in the end,
a vast field of concrete painted in plastics,
nothing standing but plumes of smoke.

But maybe there’s hope in there somewhere?
The rebellion of community, love for each
other while the world shifts.
Stand up to rich dictators and those who would see us burn.
After all, the birds are still singing aren’t they?
And right now, we still have trees and oceans and mountains.
Let’s band together and keep them, and in doing so,
save ourselves too.