Smoke Wafts O’er The Granite Mountainside

Smoke wafts o’er the granite mountainside;

Black and thick in a murderous haze.

Sulfur taints the crusty putrid air

Drowning out the glorious scent of honeysuckle and pine.

Babbling brooks once vocal no longer babble;

Their voices silenced by dam, drought and pollution.

Dry and cracked beds mar earths aging face

Leaving tinder for natures fiery furnace.

From my hilltop perch a murky brown sludge chokes the valley floor.

What hazards are these we should ask,

Though no one cares but for convenience and profit.

As we seek cause and cure for man’s maladies

Might we look no further than ourselves,

Our misuse of natures gifts,

Our burning of fossil fuels,

Pollution of our most precious resources–air and water,

Is it any wonder we are plagued with incurable disease?

Yet even the slightest attempts to change course

Are stalled by the profiteers gauntlet.

Science–when used for their benefit is gospel,

But dismissed as leftist propaganda

When the planet and climate are on stage.

Look beyond your four walls,

Breathe deeply,

Feel the burn in your tainted lungs,

Wipe the tears from your stinging eyes and look if you can,

Is this the vision of paradise that you sought

For you and your children?

~

~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~

 

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