What is wrong with the world?
We all sit on her axis and
wonder how we can shift it.
“Oh she shifted herself the other day.”
But did we have any influence on her decision?
Did we shave one too many rain forests
as the stubble trips us up?
Did the smoke stacks, like big Cuban
cigars, cause her to violently cough?
Did our little street side pods of waste
become pills forced down her throat?
Did the oil spills drench the greens
like too much salad dressing?
Have we messed with her “zone”?
Are the bald patches in her ozone
hair evidence of our chemo-therapy?
Have we forsaken our God given
Have we not read enough Wendell Berry?
Will Lucy Shaw collect poems
about the brown earth?
Will one of God’s greatest poems be
reduced to utilitarian prose?
Are we now disregarding
the mother nurture she
so naturally gave us?