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What Is Our World Coming To?
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By:
Gina Verdolaga
This morning, the sun
turned into a fried egg,
burnt around the edges.
Rainbows could not find
a place to park
across the unfamiliar sky.
Clouds were washing machines
dripping dirty water
all over the earth
And a blanket of ash,
dust and soot were
fishbones choking the air.
This evening, the stars
became pinprick lights
that lost their twinkle
And the lifeless wind
crushed the scent of
the ylang-ylang.
Night owls meowed
and fireflies dimmed,
cats mooed in confusion.
I howled and asked
the pink moon, what
is our world coming to?
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