Are we in the Autumn of our days
will civilisation as we like to call it
fade to red and wither beneath
climate over warmed skies
when skies are hanged and oceans drowned,
the single secret will still be man*
who has fouled his nest
which is the whole world
watching the world go by for lockdown hours
viewing live streams from the ISS
the Booker winning author of ‘Orbital’
reflected on our devastating impact
mostly at night the impact of man’s
expansion to every corner of the Earth
can be seen spelt out in light pollution
other damage scarcely visible from space
damage like smoke from wildfires
once natural – now stoked by climate change
more frequent hurricanes and worse…
and one-time lakes and reservoirs now dry
these things you may see from space
however pristine the planet appears
but the truth is out there
and space itself is littered with debris
a layer of debris – mainly plastic
marks the Anthropocene
and future, alien archaeologists
may label the sign of our demise as –
fouled nest syndrome…
Andrew Wilson, 2024
Last night down the dVerse Poets Pub, Melissa Lemay in Poetics offers us reflection as a prompt of the photo above paired with the italicised lines marked *. The lines are taken from “[what if a much of a which of a wind]” by E. E. Cummings.
Stargazing in Central Oregon where I live is awesome! We have not one, but two observatories within 45 minutes of our home. Night sky pollution is relatively nonexistent. There is a Dark Sky Park designated by the International Dark-sky Association an hour away. It’s difficult to put into perspective what your beautifully constructed poem tells us. None of it good.
Thanks, Helen. Politicians duck taking the difficult decisions around climate change because the effects of their inaction are not immediately apparent, but also because it is so complex that they can’t see how doing their “bit” will fit in and help…
Fouling our own nest indeed. It’s unbelievable for the supposed most intelligent life form on the planet. (I think not). And plastic, those micro plastic float in the air, end up in the atmosphere where ice crystals form around them, and inside ourselves. Brilliantly written and thought out!
Thanks, Di – as Frank said last week in relation to the election result, we poets have to keep on talking about the big issues…
Your poem is a powerful and depressing message. I despair at it all. 😢
“fouled nest syndrome”😱
I don’t know if it was intentional or not, but if it was a nod to the X-files, I like it.
Melissa! You know me well enough – of course it was intentional – glad you liked it – couldn’t miss your prompt on your birthday…
Oh yes, fouling our nest, we do it and keep doing it.
It’s where the prompt took me…