That there’s too much snow
dusting the holly trees, powdering
three waxwings as they snag berries
gilded white. That the town runs out
of ploughs, salt, patience. That people say,
Snow can’t be trusted, all those different
shaped flakes, the way it melts and floods,
how fake it looks when falling, like stale confetti.
That last week it was 68 degrees – in March!
Kids wore shorts and T-shirts to school.
That too much carbon causes illusory sunsets –
smashed pink, blood gold, torn orange.
That there are so many hurricanes,
they’ve run out of girls to name them after.
That an emperor penguin is stranded on
an ice floe in Antarctica. That Nemo can’t swim
through coral reefs anymore. That some people say,
Let the oceans rise, let the damn snow fall, let the fires
burn. It’s Mother Nature. That you don’t need to go
halfway around the world, a million or so miles
away, to see the wind ripping a butterfly’s wing.