Letter to Betsy

The rain here is gold,
each drop more valuable than ruby rings
though we may flood and storm
we also have enough to drink.
I am grateful we are lush,
though I would love the desert
were I there today.
But here was the greenest summer I have known,
the thick trees, and a few buzzing bees.
Though I know we are filling up with smoke,
enough to choke the turtles from the pond.
The frogs and ice caps and other delicate things
teeter precariously on the brink of the end,

and there we go with them, over the edge.
But I am happy to be here, alive with you,
and wish we could save our place on Earth,
my muse, and friend, so true.

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