The Morning After
a forest fire haze turns the morning sun orange,
down in the Village square
dazed coffee drinkers nurse their hangovers
too many stayed too late at the Dublin Gate
here and there perky couples with dogs
take photos for their blogs,
jpegs spiral upwards into the cloud
which is not a cloud
it’s a bank of a billion hard drives
humming hard in flat roofed, air-conditioned buildings
somewhere I will always think of as Texas
no snow on the mountains
the glaciers have retreated
as if they’re afraid of something
leaving behind bare granite
over on the islands
there is talk of low water tables
and no water for the table
we fiddle while forests burn
Nero….. Nero has nothing on us.
This is a response to Lindi’s excellent challenge over at earthweal
Stopdraggingthepanda 
Jim, my friend flew over Stanley Park the other day and says the forest is dying from drought. Wildfires on the Island, and dry riverbeds, thousands of dead salmon with no water to migrate in. Devastating ecological collapse. And nothing changes. The complete lack of action by government in addressing lowering emissions is criminal. Always great to read you.
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Thank you Sherry!
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such acute observations. We are indeed latter day Neros.
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Thanks Suzanne!
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Pingback: The Morning After | Enjoy and share the Inspiration and Truth of the Windows From Heaven
“somewhere I will always think of as Texas”–perfect. (K)
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” a bank of a billion hard drives
humming hard in flat roofed, air-conditioned buildings..” Cloud is such a misleading name for the enormous, wasteful, bit-coin infested fantasy and energy-hog that holds all that oh so necessary/useless data in megabytes that may devour us all. You poem has that feel, of an every day life of ants just before the large, black-soled boot descends on them from the sky. I also like very much:
“..no snow on the mountains
the glaciers have retreated
as if they’re afraid of something..” as well they might be. Always a pleasure and an education to read you, Jim.
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Thank you Joy for your always insightful comments!
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Fiddling while the forests burns – exactly. An excellent write.
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Thank you, Lindi!
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This resonates with me. Thank you for sharing
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Thank you Ali.Much appreciated. JIM
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You’ve slapped me with the reality I already knew, but couldn’t express with such ability as you have. Earth boils and burn and we are more focused on who wore what, and which restaraunt shot looks the best on Instagram.
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Thanks Susie!
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So goes the day in the burning century before the melted one … low water tables, no drinking water and lots of fiddles burning.
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This a brilliant modern day reality poem. The clouds take on a new meaning. Storing data instead of the much needed rain.
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Thank you, Truedessa. much appreciated.
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I like the matter-of-fact way you build up the sense of impending apocalyptic doom…
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Thanks Ingrid!
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