Looking out into April’s late-night sky,
The stars shine brightly down from cosmic perch
Onto a land that time is passing by,
As inhabitants lean into the lurch

Of past, present, and future. We take for
Granted all we have as gifts from God
To use and cast away. We leave a sore,
Bleeding, oozing mess behind without nod

To generations yet to come. Man’s greed
Is rationale as we foul our air, our
Water, earth, and planet, from endless need
For more, and more, and more. Soon comes the hour,

As we continue to fail to preserve,
Of the cosmic reckoning we deserve.