Nineteen states besieged and battered,
eight million- plus left powerless.
Rescuers, first responders and reporters calling the shots,
a presidential race goes on and 49 babies born.
Without energy, without power, without clout,
we wait in the dark as cold settles in;
candles burning, milk slowly souring in a tepid fridge.
But not for that are we powerless!
or the dead metal boxes lying un-resuscitated on tables beside impotent outlets
but for silent screams that fall on deaf politician’s ears.
Save the suffering, slowly suffocating in deep shifting waters
where fallout settles and temperatures rise.
One degree more can take me to bed.
Should I be surprised that it alters our mother?
The wind screams and incites the water to battle.
Can you hear?
Born of this grit and wind and water rising as material from the material world,
And what about this place that raised me?
Do I dare to know what I know?
I feel the food that feeds or frets my cells,
remember the taste of clean air and free water.
It matters, does it not?
Powerless to stop the well-heeled gatekeepers
who pollute the skies, tarnish the food, and degrade the seeds.
They poison the livestock with hormones and wrong food and vile habitat;
poison our children nourished by that.
Powerless to protect ourselves from ourselves:
We paved this ghostly road away from home.
Guardians press back while others sniff at the folly of facing the rising seas.
Romney manufactures a benevolent twinkle for the viewers’ eyes;
Obama, you poor silly Don Quixote.
Don’t talk of climate change when we are homeless. Just ensure our minimum wage.
We are frightened of what we can see.
Keep us that way and we won’t notice the rising sea.
Powerless, running through the pitch and silent night, empty of commerce’s hum and roar,
noticed only by its absence.
Powerless to progress, powerless to return: Is this the rut we rest in?
There’s no glory in that.
By this candle’s light in the gloaming of disaster, in the wake of apocalypse,
there is nothing left but a reflecting pool.
Many miniscule choices of many people matter every minute.
This is the power, not flashy but magnificent.
We have choices and we do care.
to see in the dark.
re-posted on Rebelle Society, www.rebellesociety.com