A Random Parasite Bemoans the Fallen Light

From glorious clouds to wayward seas, to earth’s horizon and below, Opines our muted panoply: “Intuit in green, oh, stubbornness,” “Oh, humans failing us, forefend, Who forthright with their undertow align our cosmos in their schemes.” For we take it as opining, and think the war is one of ours, But yet contests of water, bowers, Are not ours to direct. We shrink from humble servitude To all we should be sustained by, To us, our faces are supreme in photographs, in ego’s memes, And we do not involve the earth Except to think it photo-bombed us in our pictures of ourselves. Background, we think, because we fear To know we could destroy our source, These are my flowers, we say to friends, Look! Blooming here, my peonies, Or on the hills, this is my gorse, And it’s so much the easier to…