What will you miss the most?
So when we shoot past two degrees
and all the land is toast
and skies are black from the burning trees
what will you miss the most?
Me, I’ll miss the song of birds
that welcomed in the day:
those heart-rending, incoherent words
that had so much to say.
And when the heating of the ocean
flays the coral reefs,
will you temper your emotion?
Modulate your grief?
Like fuck I will! It’s not just warming
but plummeting pH:
phytoplankton shells not forming,
starved of carbonates.
And when there’s famines every year
and billions forced to roam,
will you house the helpless here
or tell them “Go back home!”?
My inclination’s to believe
such words won’t shame my voice.
We’ll cut the carbon, not the love.
Let no one face that choice!
And when they tell you “Stop this fight,
you’re making too much fuss,
the planet’s going to be alright -
just leave it up to us.”?
I’ll calmly say the facts are clear,
and then I’ll blow my top.
Trust the fools that got us here?
I’ll fight until I drop!