While They Dawdle

The mountain has changed again
have you noticed
a little rounder
a little lower on the horizon
a little more tired I think
it has been such a long time

And we wait

We don’t talk about it
not much
maybe a few whispers late at night
or deep in winter beneath the snow
when it is cold and still
and safe to talk

We all wonder

Can we survive their endless adolescence
these creatures
these children
this race we have nurtured
and protected for such a long time
Will they ever grow up

Our grand experiment

Creating them
then letting them go for so long
certainly we have lost others
but not like this
never self-inflicted
never suicide

And our mountain
our shrinking, weary mountain
she wants to see them grown
before she’s gone

I am beginning to have my doubts

Marv Himmel
April 10, 2017 ©

2 thoughts on “While They Dawdle”

  1. This is so chillingly profound and accurate. Those adolescents are the ruin of our mother.

    1. Thanks Tommi, I am glad you liked it. I wrote this before he whose name I will not speak, withdrew us from the Paris Accords. Seems to be very timely.

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