Gaia's Blood

Oil covers the Gulf of Mexico

a slick the size of Delaware and growing;

oysters disappear from Chesapeake Bay

once crystal clear to a hundred feet

where herons fish from pilings in brown water;

Puyallup and Makah hold first salmon festivals

though fins without hatchery marks are rare;

miners die inside a mountain gash

for ore to burn the air and blacken the sky;

airplanes haul grapes from Chili,

trains drag coal from Wyoming,

trucks burn gas across the prairies

for party favors and peanut butter.

Underneath the sea Her artery lays open

dark blood flowing in a plume

as shorebirds and sea life watch their fate

spread through the tidelands,

Her pulse bled out and weakening.

The story may end in silence

not the sound and fury of an opera finale

but quietly across open water

a thick mass blown ashore on the wind

the relentless rise of a sickened black tide.