11.

11.
Klimawandel

What a warm winter.
There were occasional red ants
and unhoarded acorns amongst
the bursts of green shoots.
My son laid his hand on a rust
colored wasp that squirmed
sluggishly then flew heavily away.
Skudding leaves were
mistaken for butterflies.
We marched more than expected
and wore through boots.
If it had been colder we might
have stayed in, watched the news,
and noticed disasters unfolding.
By the time it snowed
and we came indoors
it was too late. There had been
missiles and murders
but we’d been busy outside.

#weeklypoemandpic