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, 10 January 2017
Lost Species poem 15: Roselle Angwin
after W S Merwin
What shall we say to you and your kind
when we meet you in the blue beyond –
you great herbivores who could teach us
to live peaceably, who for so long
have done our bidding as slaves, you who
bury and mourn your dead as we do?
What shall we say to you whose faces
we mutilate, whose children we orphan,
whose whole family we’ve driven to the cliffs?
Shall we protest our ignorance as innocence,
tell how our great and growing god Profit
dictates and who are we to contravene?
Might we admit to our failures of imagination,
our poverty of spirit? Or shall we plead merely
that the world and all that’s in it was made for us?
© Roselle Angwin
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- a perspective: figures on US deaths
- Lost Species poem-plus 20: Kenneth Steven
- Lost Species poem 19: Geoffrey Leggett
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- from the Ragbag, January 13th
- Lost Species poem 16: Shirley Wright
- Lost Species poem 15: Roselle Angwin
- Lost Species poem 14: Susan Richardson
- Lost Species poem 13: Chris Waters
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- Lost Species poem 11: Fiona Owen
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