Years ago, I wrote about a winter picnic
with my kids – it fits more now when
yesterday was 80 degrees, today is icy:
Then in warm pants, boots we drank hot
chocolate from thermoses, we'd go into
the woods mush through snow find a
sunny spot behind a clump of leafless bushes
spread out our fare what matter if peanut butter
got on mittens soon discarded anyway. I'd like
to do this with my grandkids – trouble is we're
only having a few days between warmth and cold:
back then we watched a documentary of scores of
penguins trudging single file 28 miles from their
age-old breeding grounds to the sea do we dare tell
them their birth spot is now falling into the ocean?
I fear for my grands and great grands, for all of us
living on this plundered planet. I write checks to
groups, senators, they trying to stick thumbs in crumbling
dikes but it's not enough we need global cooperation
for global catastrophe: already south sea islanders
are deserting, seeking higher ground.
2023 Jacqueline Jackson
