So Many Sunny August Days and So Many Questions*

*Note: this whimsical and quizzical verse comes with a few intertextual or informational hyperlinks to further your pondering, should you wish

August is all blue sky dry
so much sun
so much beach fun
glory and relief of water
and hours and hours
appreciating leafy tree shade 

White caps whip up in the bay
Sandpipers swirl across them
their white bellies flickering
in and out of sight
mesmerizing marvel
of murmuration flight patterns
innate synchrony
aerial acrobatics
sheer delight to behold

On land the drought deepens
day by day      week by week
despite all manner of modern clouds
whose tendrils seep   s p r e a d   and veil
blue into diaphanous silvery white
without any chance of rain 

Lovely weather
yet we realize
we are living the expression
    too much
of         a good thing 

Lucky the riverbank and lakeshore plants
and those with underground reserves
Worts   weeds   shrubs   trees
floras wild and cultivated
turn yellow and brown
halt or shrivel
hardening with the ground
Watering becomes selective
as country dwellers
mind their wells
many of which
go dry 

As if the palpable evidence everywhere
were insufficient in instilling caution
those governing decree nonsensical bans
astronomical fines
as if simply walking
amid trees       were perilous
optional    not    existential
yet the same they
think nothing
of spraying compounding desiccants
exert expert homo-genitus economics
lacking interconnections foresight
u n   b a   l a n   cin   g
e v e  r y t h in g   with purpose
and so vegetation brittles
repeat infliction of osteoporosis
and other deficiencies
on drying ground
even before
six weeks
of sun 

Bit by bit
the curious find puzzle pieces
strange and inconceivable
inventions and interventions
grandiose and dangerous
ionosphere heaters
cloud seeding
dimming the sun
and other such
nightmarish notions
for life on earth
presented slant
to varying degrees
and sure enough
in these conditions
fires are sparked
one way or another
impossible to control
in high heat and winds
though brave firefighters try
their best here and the world over
while multitudes must flee
wondering all the why-le

William Blake spake proverbial truth:
”No bird soars too high,
if he soars with his own wings.”
Lyndon B Johnson
                                by contrast
spoke with great certainty
about the worldly implications
of controlling the weather
visionary poet       powermonger
Sense                     Danger 

The Widow Wyile sits on bleachers
in an audience gathered under a dark sky
up on the north mountain
to watch a play memorializing songbirds
tragically lured to incineration
over a decade past
the sun a red warning ball
as the ash of trees
and likely birds caught
in a doubling wild forest fire
            aye       what’s in a name?
flutters down upon them
from eerie smoke and cloud
having travelled some hundred kilometers
from the next county over
grim reduction of living matter
heightened symbolism
everyone notices 

This confluence of details
particulars
word choices
raises ever more questions
about how we got here
what is fact
what is purposeful fiction
serving whom
everyone’s personal responsibility
to learn   and  to act
how to change course
to stand true
so that Wabenaki forests
their many inhabitants
their kin the world over
will flourish organically once again
according to the laws of nature
of whom we are part