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Climate change

I once fished in an empty brook,

Naught on my line, nor on my hook,

And now the same applies it seems,

To insects, wasps and honey bees.


Gone from the land in recent days,

Killed off by man-made climate change,

All due to burning fossil fuel,

Petroleum and shale gas too.


Polluted rivers, seas and streams,

Air that one can hardly breathe,

Insecticide and fertilize,

Kill all the bees and more besides.


A sick bee struggled on the path,

Clearly ill and close to death,

Poisoned acres, acid rain,

Poor thing will never fly again.


I once walked in an orchard bare,

No apples, plums or juicy pears,

Withered blossom, empty bough,

What price denial, fake news now?

© Joseph G Dawson

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