Early Anthropocene Skinny Dip
Now we bathe in the breathless
Light of a full moon season,
With revolution’s shine
To shed our given names.
We, the Beacons of rising tides
We, the Witness to melting mountains
We, the Revelers at impossible stillness —
A choir crossing the heart of time.
Let us reign with open hands
Let us tend without dominion
Let us take only responsibility
Let us be the first generation
The ones who name ourselves —
We, the Guardians,
Whose children will not know thirst.