DON’T FORGET

by Laura Rodley

The cause of mysterious mass deaths of African elephants has finally been unraveled — and scientists who authored a new report say that the outbreaks could be more likely to occur amid conditions created by the ongoing climate crisis. Thirty-five African elephants in northwestern Zimbabwe dropped dead under baffling circumstances between late August and November 2020. Eleven of the massive herd animals died within a 24-hour period… Earlier that same year, about 350 elephants in neighboring northern Botswana also had died suddenly over the course of three months… It turns out a bacterial infection killed the elephants, according to the research based on samples taken from 15 of the animals that died in Zimbabwe… The deaths took place as food and water resources dwindled during the dry season, forcing the elephants to travel increasing distances to look for water and to forage… The authors said that heat, drought and population density in that area were likely contributing factors to the outbreak. And the extreme conditions that scientists project will occur with more frequency as Earth warms could mean more elephant deaths in the future. —CNN, November 6, 2023

We don’t forget, we remember the waterholes
shown to us by the elders:
in Zimbabwe we trekked lumbering our feet
across the arid dry ground, leaves and
twigs, fruits already eaten
by those hungry before us.
It is a fever that starts first as thirst,
no relief from flapping our ears back,
waving dry dust across each others’ backs,
we remember the waterholes our elders
brought us to in times of thirst—
they’ve been here before, but never so long as this.
We don’t forget, we hold all the memories
of the beauty of the running water,
the coolness in the shade, how
you loved each other, all of you—
don’t forget—the rumble of our feet
transmitting messages to each other as
we roam further apart, the sound
of jeeps from rescuers from other years
bringing banana leaves, but this time,
the water holes we remembered
had dried up, you walked too far away
for our message to reach you—turn back.

Laura Rodley, Pushcart Prize winner, is a quintuple Pushcart Prize nominee and quintuple Best of Net nominee. Latest books: Turn Left at Normal by Big Table Publishing, Counter Point by Prolific Press, and As You Write It Lucky 7, a collection of 11 writers' work.

DROUGHT SONG OF THE ELEPHANTS

by Orel Protopopescu

 

We lumber along and sway  

closer to death, stirring dust

like the skirts of the women

eternally searching for water, 

jugs on their heads, 

their children like bundles

of sticks on their backs.

 

We are searching for water,

but keep finding death

in the soot of the grasses 

that once waved to us.

Who took the rain clouds, 

the green from the trees? 

We walk a parched path

where leaves crack and fall

 like birds from the sky.  

            

We remember the pools,

the pools where we played

before days dried in blood

left a burnt orange haze

of dust in our eyes. 

What drives us, who hunts us, 

what beast made of heat?

 

With the children like sticks

we keep drinking the dust.

We drink and they drink

until tongues turn to ash

and milky eyes close.

 

And now we’re forgetting

the clouds and the grasses,

the haze of the heat

with no name and no face.

We’re forgetting the children

who fell on this path 

where our tongues turn to ash

and our clouded eyes close.

Orel Protopopescu has written prize-winning works for children and adults. She won the Oberon poetry prize in 2010 and 2020. Her first biography Dancing Past the Light: The Life of Tanaquil Le Clercq (University Press of Florida, 2021) received a starred review in Library Journal. 

EARTH DAY

by Pepper Trail

I.

 

Let us give thanks

 

In gatherings or on our own

Stepping carefully upon the earth

Looking closely, bending to the flowers

Lifting our eyes to the swallows and the soaring hawk

Listening to the wind combing the grass and

Carrying birdsong across the creek

Scenting the richness of the soil

Mindfully opening every gift

 

Let us give thanks

 

II.

 

Let us grieve

 

Remembering all that once was given

Meadows bright with butterflies

Daily chorusing of the birds

Far forest-clad horizons

Silent wilderness

Mighty rivers of ice

Blue whales and elephants

Coral reefs in dazzling splendor

 

Let us grieve

 

 

III.

 

Let us protest

 

Lest we surrender to the drowsy sun

In our multitudes, cry Enough!

Name the destroyers

Corporate greed

Oil addiction

Political cowardice

Denial of nature’s rights

Willful blindness to all we do

 

Let us protest

 

IV.

 

Let us plant

 

Let us fall to our knees

Prepare the waiting earth

With our soft and ignorant hands

Plant a tree native to this damaged place

A testament to our desperate hopes

Flourishing past our little lives

A lasting gift of breath 

For our survivors 

 

Let us plant

 

Pepper Trail is a poet and naturalist based in Ashland, Oregon. His poetry has appeared in Rattle, Atlanta Review, Spillway, Kyoto Journal, Cascadia Review, and other publications, and has been nominated for Pushcart and Best of the Net awards. His collection Cascade-Siskiyou was a finalist for the 2016 Oregon Book Award in Poetry.

A LAST LAB REPORT

by Steven Deutsch

Burning Earth source: WallpaperFolder; Lab Report source: Jimmie at flickr.

Set the planet to simmer,
with the ordinary hubbub
of some seven billion lives.
Add the ordered activity
of the supporting cast,
plankton to pachyderms.
Then factor in the geologic—
those generous memories
from an ancient past.

Now, cover gently
with the exhalation
of industrial waste.
Measure often as you wait,
so men of stature
may use the numbers
to cudgel those across an aisle
created for the purpose
of disagreeing.

For your report,
use a lined notebook--
the kind recommended
for second graders
practicing penmanship
in the long ago of future,
and record the changes
that astound and horrify
for the next few hundred years.

No need to turn in your assignment.
In time, the pages of your history
will curl, and brown, and burn.

Steve Deutsch is a retired practitioner of fluid mechanics, as applied to mechanical hearts and heart valves.  He lives with his wife, a visual artist, in State College, Pennsylvania.  He is responsible for the blog: stevieslaw@wordpress.com and has published short fiction and poetry, most recently in Misfit Magazine, One-Sentence Poems, and at Silver Birch Press.

CIRCUS ELEPHANTS

by Ed Shacklee

Dave Granlund Cartoons

In Cleveland, pachyderms regroup

as hired clowns arrive in troop

to fan the flames and jump the hoop,

rousing rubes they hope to dupe.

With talk so cheap our shoulders droop,

reporters keep us in the loop,

but pomp cannot conceal the poop—

so little news, so much to scoop.

Ed Shacklee is a public defender who represents young people in the District of Columbia. He is working on a bestiary.

I CANNOT SAVE

by Howard Winn

“January 2015- BC’s War on Wolves continues: As you read this, wolves in British Columbia, Canada are being shot at by hunters in helicopters. This is an ill-conceived plan to save endangered caribou in B.C.. The wolves are not responsible for the dwindling caribou numbers; habitat loss and human encroachment are. But wolves are taking the blame and paying the price. B.C. Wolves Need Your Help: Consider donating to our Indiegogo Campaign. Sign the Save B.C. Wolves petition.” --PACIFICWILD.org

I cannot save
them all
the wolves and walruses
the manatee and elephants
the white rhino and
the mountain gorilla
not to mention the cod
and the tarpon
of course we have
already lost the
passenger pigeon
so nothing to do there
but perhaps we
can save the redwoods
although they are
unlikely to personally care
as with the need to save
the Colorado River
and the Amazon rain
forest which is being
clear cut for agriculture
so we have to save
the indigenous people
who live in the woods
and the song birds that
are the tiny relics
of the extinct dinosaurs
so much to save and
I cannot finish the list
if only I were a heartless
sociopath without empathy
or a care in the universe
beyond my selfish self
like the Ayn Rand disciples
one could be oblivious
and blissful in the face
of obvious total extermination
as the earth we know
turns into Mars, Pluto, or Ceres.


Howard Winn’s poetry and fiction has appeared in a number of literary journals such as The Pennsylvania Literary Journal, Dalhousie Review, Antigonish Review, Chaffin Journal, Blueline, and Sediments Literary Arts Journal. He is a State of New York University Professor of English.