The stars are in our belly; the Milky Way our umbilicus.
Is it a consolation that the stuff of which we’re made
is star-stuff too?
– That wherever you go you can never fully disappear –
dispersal only: carbon, hydrogen, nitrogen, oxygen.
Tree, rain, coal, glow-worm, horse, gnat, rock.
Tuesday, 6 December 2016
Lost Species poem 1: Kathleen Jones
I've a few now; they'll appear during this month.
Kathleen Jones was the first respondent. Here's her poignant poem, written especially:
Three Species an Hour
Already, as I write this, another one is gone –
a yellow tree-frog, in the deep throat
of an Amazonian orchid, the small corpse,
the size of my finger-nail, perhaps,
floating on a micro-lake of sweet rain.
And then, while I make coffee,
a coral polyp on a shallow Pacific reef,
silently sheds it algae. An unknown
species, dying unrecorded in a warming sea.
Now, it is only a matter of watching
the clock, counting down how long
it takes, in universal time, to get from
an unspectacular beetle, now thrashing
its legs for the last time, unobserved, on
the forest floor, to us; the apex of a pyramid
that rests on biological foundation blocks
we are removing, one by one by one.
© Kathleen Jones
- ► 2017 (66)
- a bit more for animals
- Lost Species poem 10: Matt Merritt
- Lost Species poem 9: Harry Owen
- Lost Species poem 8: Lindsay MacGregor
- winter solstice poem
- Lost Species poem 7: Simon Stanley
- Lost Species poem 6: Lesley Quayle
- Lost Species poem 5: Mark Totterdell
- Lost Species poem 4: Andie Lewenstein
- Lost Species poem 3: Victoria Field
- Lost species poem 2: Rachael Clyne
- Fire in the Head & The Wild Ways 2017
- Lost Species poem 1: Kathleen Jones
- there is only
- 3 things
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