Winter winds strip harvest-fruit altars
bare,
Purify the aisles where false idols park,
Uproot the bible-bonded graveyard stones,
Flick the snapped wires from the poles and
pylons.
While we lord-god the warming planet earth,
Keep an eye out for Noah in his ark,
Swim upon the waters of the deluge,
Hope for a birch bark with an even keel.
You can’t improve Lear with an upbeat end.
Job said wisdom can’t be gotten for gold.
The weather cast doesn’t say what it
should:
Earth festers under our dominion.
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