A cool summer breeze touching the skin right above your knee.
Children playing outside in the dying light.
Birch, juniper, lavender.
Our air filled with living things. 
Our water filled with living things.
Our ground filled with living things.
All I ask for are these small wonders. 


Things are usually fine.
Until they're not.


You've gone blind.
You've gone deaf.
Years of peer-reviewed cold calling.
You've gone mute.
But you better believe this affects you too.
You breath poison.
You eat poison.
You drink poison.
Are you not boiling with anger?
Misguided rage fails to fill the growing void of your soul.
Pledges fail to prevent growing crops in bad soil.


The habitats will succumb to our habits.
Our habits succumbing to the habitats succumbed.
A feedback loop for the tone-deaf.


You got it all. 
I got it all. 
We got nothing.


The fish.
The birds.
The insects.
John.
Rachel.
Rebecca.
David.
Julia.

All gone.


And I hear you whisper:
We can fix this.
We can survive this.
We can change.

We can. 

But we won't.





And your silence will echo forever.

Deceptive Expectations