I remember the summers
In my youth…ok…long ago
In those days…sounds from
The baseball fields familiar
And those are still with us…
So too splashing and shouts of glee
From swimming pools large or small
But those are sounds that
People make…young or old
What has changed…
Maybe a consequence
Of where I live…but likely not
And most of it…the sounds
Of the natural world changing
Foreboding nothing good
The sounds of frogs dying away
Seventeen year locusts
Coming in the wrong year
And far too often…a deadly twister
I hope to keep that far away…
But when people in power refuse
To accept the irrefutable evidence
There’s more that’s not normal
Sadly on the way…my fear
© 2017 Robert Mihaly
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