Climate Change

We are a winter race,
our ancestor’s bones
discovered in glacial
run-off, under rock
piles on tundra, adhered
to timber deep in
frigid waters — we are
submerged in snow.

But the world is
boiling now, the oceans
rising, burying coastlines,
pushing Atlantis to
the poles, changing
everything —

yet you remain frozen,
that flower which
having bloomed with
robust fervour when
March worried the soil,
now finds itself impotent
in the teeth of a June frost.