Friday, 29 January 2010

Climate Change by Gill McEvoy

We will not go about our gardens
lifting the violet's head
to see the tiny orange teeth;

there will be no snowdrops
in blizzard in the spring;

we will not wander round
flicking the fresh rain
from the tender leaves.

We will learn to love cacti,
and stand back.


Gill McAvoy, UK

4 comments:

Crafty Green Poet said...

Gill is a writer, chiefly of poetry, but in the past she has written fiction and has had a good many short stories and articles published. Publications: Uncertain Days, (Happenstance Press 2006) A Sampler (Happenstance Press 2008) Forthcoming: The Plucking Shed (Cinnamon Press 2010)

Karen said...

I love the voice of this. I fear the message.

Spiderette said...

Having spent a good deal of time yesterday in awe of the minute detail and fragile beauty of the snowdrops we foud, this poem really resonated with me. And as Karen (above) says, I too fear its message. Great poem.

Spiderette said...

*found!