For My Daughter
When I sweat in a Midwest January
....and wish to God it was a hot flash but know
it's greenhouse gasses--read the news:
....Uranium seas rained on by iodine skies--
Sunday drives, see the Kalamazoo shimmer
Sunday drives, see the Kalamazoo shimmer
....spills of bitumen, kills of brown trout,
dioxin wells irrigate the emerald fields,
....farmhouses where fracking flames
flow from kitchen taps--I think of you then, grown
....old long after I'm gone, and wonder what you'll remember--
that day last September, cold apples
....and clear water, the still-sweet grass, and the paper
plates, the plastic cups, how we threw away
....the whole green and generous world
.....................................................and left you there.
-Michelle Regalado Deatrick
Used by permission.
Originally appeared in subTerrain's
"Our Dying Planet" print issue (#63, Winter, 2013) and
was a Finalist for the 2013 Split This Rock contest.
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