Records of our Future Past
Across the dusty plains of southwest lands, An empty dish lies buried in the sands; With taps turned off to nature’s moist supply, As climates
"this is sixth form poetry, not Keats or Yeats"
Across the dusty plains of southwest lands, An empty dish lies buried in the sands; With taps turned off to nature’s moist supply, As climates
With rising heat, the Earth begins to bloom, The emerald hues a fervent sign of spring; And every breath of air that’s taken in, A
As echoes of past conflicts start to fade, The dissipating fog lays bare what’s planned; Whilst treaties dance upon a blunted blade, With bloodied fist
As weathers change the birds migrate, Flocking en masse like living freight; They have decanted overseas, The notes of birdsong on the breeze. In
The sun-bleached earth bursts into flame, As lightning forks across the sky; A stolen gift for us to try, A burning life that we could
As our oceans warm from global change, Vibrant corals dissolve and collapse; Reefs in the Northern Red Sea Are sheltered from the stress. But local
Amongst the blue-eyed leaves you made your beds, Conflicting patterns sailing on the breeze; Then weeds appeared with green and narrow heads, A nursery that
A ring of coral Floating on seas of hubris – Lost beneath the waves This is a haiku, inspired by recent research which has found
Amongst the icy peaks and stony seas, We count the plants that call such heights a home; Traversing every sudden gale and breeze, To better
As climates change and rainfalls slow, Our trees adapt the way they grow; For every water-seeking root, The greenery becomes dilute. A forest we no