Canada - often described by the British media as "boring" - has the second most important single geographical structure (the first is the Amazon rain forest) to protect the world from apocalyptic global warming - the "white parasol" - and news today has it that around 25% of that has been lost - this year alone - in extreme calving of the Canadian ice-shelf.
A poem for my mother, July 15 When she was dying And I was in a different country I dreamt I was there with her Flying over the ocean very quickly, And arriving in the room like a dream And I was a dream, but the meaning was more Than a dream has – it was a moving over time And land, over water, to get love across Fast enough, to be there, before she died, To lean over the small, huddled figure, In the dark, and without bothering her Even with apologies, and be a kiss in the air, A dream of a kiss, or even less, the thought of one, And when I woke, none of this had happened, She was still far distant, and we had not spoken.
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I read an article in the N. Geographic about what would happen if all the ice (glaciers, arctic caps etc.) melted. A rise of 100 meters they said. I wrote a little something about it:
A 100 METER RISE
Google Earth’s rounded Pacific, you get the picture:
every thing, every one we stood or lay down for
painted into corners, land’s blemish largely gone
below doodling, skywriting waves; gaunt
cities gridlocked in silence, occasionally lit
by a neon-bright school. A species’ name "writ
in water" – the scattered bone-pearls
sunken as old wrecks where "seaweed sways and swirls
as if swaying were its form of stillness". Pour
me another one. I guess I should get out more.
(The quoted lines are from Keats and D.H. Lawrence)