space junk

i sit here contemplating what will happen
we don’t get paid to think yet
waiting for the drones to plant trees
waiting for the gates to re-open slightly
peaking our way on to moonlit paths,
only brush sets us apart from the spiders’ webs
stumbling quietly so as not to upset the killers
distracted from the reality of uncertainty
and the naming of the enemy
that goes on in lovers’ lanes
over right-of-way arguments
where the sun never, never reaches
parks emit light pollution
and waterfalls spread foreign fires
thru forests of builders,
seeking an alternative to concrete
while plastic bricks rescued from ocean trash heaps
stare bleakly from lofty ideals
making great green blog posts
that might get read by most
before the 23 tons of steel & glass
pour down on our next emergency.
2021 by a.i.heeds