Elucidating Questions

Mr Sun, Mr Sun

My Sun

Still so warm to sit beside you

Even though you’re going away sooner

Behind that tree

It’s nice to sit in you and not feel my skin cooking, though

You know?

You don’t know, probably

You’re always cooking

My big beautiful ball of fire

It’s that time of year immediately preceding my favourite time of year

Granted I have favourites of every season

But to see Winter’s Breath on every leaf

The anticipation

What will she bring for me this year?

Every snowfall a gift from her coldness

We’re North, you know

Snowfall means the Arctic is healthy

I dread the year not a flake falls

I should gather the people and demand they unhand my Winter.

Really just gather all the actual polluters and leave them in a box somewhere.

I’m sure they’ll come in useful never again forever

I feel betrayed that I am living to watch the world burn

Unable to do anything about it

Great beings of the future will see the history of our planet being

It burned

And think that’s normal, because lots of planets burn

But then see the addendum by its own inhabitants

And they will mourn the collossal loss of life we as a species perpetrated on this poor gem

No, not by asteroid, solar explosion, collision, or any of the other numbers of things that can go wrong for a planet in space

No, this planet was living a golden age

It was her own children

And they marched on to the beat of her destruction