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Dear Grandchildren of Our Grandchildren


We were capable of joy

 

if we could still walk in the greenif the lake was clean enough for swimming.

 

We planted pollinators,

 

and gave tax-deductible donationsto the World Wildlife Fund,used only herbal pesticides.

 

We bought electric cars,

 

and purchased eco-friendlylaundry soapwithout the plastic jugs.

 

But concrete words shifted like sand,

 

and climate “emergency”

became “change”“extinction” became “disruption.”

 

Our vagueness hid our apathy

 

so we could sleep at night saying,

“someone will do something.”

 

We were humans, after all.

 

Top of the food chain.

If Mother Earth wanted to heal,she could shake us off.

 

We hoped she would.

 

Otherwise,

we’d have to do

something.


 

Lisa St. John is a writer living in upstate New York. She is the author of Ponderings (Finishing Line Press) and Swallowing Stones (Kelsay Books). Lisa’s poetry appears in journals such as New Verse News, The Poet’s Billow, The Orchards Poetry Journal, Light, Poets Reading the News, and Glassworks.

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