Dust

“I hear you crying.”

Image by Andy Li on Unsplash — “Green to Grey”

I hear you crying

Your once proud mantle turned to

powdered dust.

Green to grey.

*

I hear you crying

as your roots dry out

bulbs, corms, and rhizomes shrivel,

maxed out before their time.

*

I hear you crying

while the murmuring wind

crescendos to a wild screech;

and mighty trees bowl over

their huge root balls breached;

upturned, dried, and wizened.

*

Their internal systems can

no longer sustain

their weight in porous soil.

*

I hear you crying

when your soil begets grey dust;

as encrusted, elephantine skin

spreads, cancer on the land.

*

Fissures and cracks appear like open sores;

gaps in your spent terrain.

Giant footprints are marching,