Imperiled Environ
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When nightfall dips in palest of gold
I feel a sense of indignity,
As birdsong loses its eloquence
Through the absence of its evening chants;
While quietude calls for avian coos
The kind that never seeks to intrude…
And a saddened breeze descends
In need of this hued, aerial parade.
O ,the marsh orchid is no longer there,
Laced beadings washed like mourning veils
A few stained along the forest trail ;
Denying the threadbare woods of glee
Now steeped in longing for floral light.
Yet in defense, a wood pigeon hides
Far faraway adrift on muddy sheds,
With expired rocks ghastly as tombstones…
An exotic bird, a wildflower disappearing
In a fields’ cavern, gone with their fleet ,
Imperiled breed gasping from plunder;
Till a sound of an ached mother beckons
This dream of a bird trilling, a bouquet flirting
Extinguished by raiders on night’s palest gold.
1/3/2016
Extinction Contest for Anthony Slausen
*The Silvery Wood Pigeon and Marsh Orchid
are critically endangered creations of nature.
*In support of environmentalism
Copyright © Nette Onclaud | Year Posted 2016
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