October 8/365 Too Late

I am afraid it is too late.

Too late for ice caps and glaciers. Penguins. Polar bears. Little brown bats. Bananas. Coral reefs. Rhinos of all colors. Elephants. Monarch butterflies. Luna moths. Lemurs. Temperate zones. Avocados. Mollusks. Large predators. Amphibians. Instead, the deserts flow into jungles, jellyfish swarm, the red tides clot with dying fish, the plastic ocean swirls, and fires birth tornados.

This is the Elegiac Period: the point in the grand time scale of our Earth when every other creature turns to lamentation and woe. The songs of the whales must be full of sorrow. I know the trees feel it. Our woods seems full of ghostly whispers now, and the crows’ conversations have a sense of urgency.

The situation is dire.

We debate plastic straws and economic concerns.

Too late.


4 thoughts on “October 8/365 Too Late

  1. Oh god, I need a glass of wine after reading this. (Although that’s probably one reason why we’re careening toward oblivion: most of us are probably in denial, or self-medicating to dull our panic at the realization that we’re fucked.)

    Liked by 2 people

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