View on side of the Road

Silver sky and the land join in the sea of smog;
Submerged, the wind turbines wave their arms,
Like drowning octopuses.

Drying lake gives way to the green invaders,
Like old soldiers with no weapons.
Hope the smoke will dwindle with winter's arrival;
Dried lakes will begin to refill
As the irrigation stops in October.

In the smoke, the wind turbine points fingers,
As we panic at the foot of crumbling hills,
Fumbling in the sea of plans.

They say eventually Nature replenishes what she has lost,
But she cannot revive the perished creatures;
Polars bears, beavers, and others may live only
In the children's story book.
Mother whispers in the wind, we can do more. 

© Byung A. Fallgren
This piece is published in The Weekly Avocet--657, July 6, 2025.