by Frances Davis
What does it matter?
When lighted days
are shingled with dread
and hullabaloos have shifted
to groans and smirks?
We could capture it in a teacup
time’s familiar wastage, not of the essence.
Our measurements, dots on a dial
foolish in the planetary run.
Who will count the hours
When the sea rises to cover all?
Frances Davis is a journalist living in California where sea level rise is eating away at cliffs and buttresses hauled in to stop its encroachment. Harsh realities in hard times and we're wasting time with our clocks? Her essays, poetry and short stories have been published in The New Verse News and numerous journals and anthologies. See her latest short story in the enviro journal The Hopper.
