Breathless

 

don’t You see what I see?

the face of naked earth

cry with her loss

at your thieving

 

the weather outside is breathless

but I guess it’s in the wind

that you know,

the spirit of

your wayward hair

mocks the child with contempt for your show

 

and I wonder will you bother,

when your honour

of self here is done,

to ponder the vile of denial  –

before her final kiss

from the Sun

 

Inspired by Greta Thunburg

_______________________________Death of an Artist’ Series