Dear friends,
“The Future of Nature” is an Earth Day community writing project for writers to explore the human-nature relationship in a short story or poem. It was organized by
and , and supported with brilliant advice from scientists JD Tonkin and . To participate in and spread the word about this great project, I’ve decided to share my poem “Bright Shards” which recently appeared in the Winter 2024 issue of the EcoTheo Review published by the . You can find all the stories as a special Disruption edition, with thanks to publisher .Some of you OG subscribers to this newsletter will recall that Bright Shards was its first title. When I chose it, I was thinking of this poem, and ways of seeing the complicated, compromised, but still present beauty in the ruins of what we’ve wrought.
Here is the poem.
Bright Shards
In the future there will be no
internet. Fish the likes
of which we’ve never seen
will drift in formation over gabled
roofs where birds once flew
in undulating Vs. Calls will come
and go by breeze. No money,
either. Just windfalls
of apples and leaves. In the future
insects will sing their vast
chattering wave, and the waves
will crash in rhythm until,
eventually, time dissolves
the poisons. Bright shards
of sea-worn credit cards
mosaic the beach in unintelligible
patterns. The future knows
no center, no margin, no page.
The headless table will seat
no king. Take heart, my love,
for the glaciers grow back also.
Newly ancient and clean.
I hope you’ll head over to
to read all of the Future of Nature Stories this week for a glimpse at the many ways that we can imagine future relationships with earth.Meanwhile, for those of you in North Carolina, you’re invited to A Reading for the End of the World at the Shadowbox in Durham (2200-D Dominion Street) this evening, 7-10pm, at which I’ll be reading “Bright Shards” among a few other other poems. This will be a banger of an event with twenty local poets of many backgrounds and styles coming together to “read into our shared apocalypse.” I’ll be reading in the first hour of the three—second from the top I believe! I hope to see you there.
Oh, I wish I could’ve been there to listen to you read this in person! Beautiful!
Thanks for sharing Sarah. I find this an unexpectedly hopeful poem, just what I needed today 😊