The Wind and March, 2022 (With Apologies to the Literary Giants)

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To Shelley, the West Wind brought to mind:
Seasons change; Spring can’t be far behind.

Zephyrus, Chaucer’s Wind-gazing god,
Sweetly exhaled with a Springlike nod

To me, the Wind assaults the senses—
So fiercely loud, coldly relentless.

Its fury caused the Oaks’ surrender,
Upending blocks of florae splendor

In other acts of carefree evil
Its wrath ignites those fires lethal.

Wind rises, bulges, then inflates
It pierces, circles, flails the gates.

Dear Mother Nature’s grown so harsh;
Which Wind will She unleash this March?

Can we Earthlings reduce her ire
By casting off our oil-drenched mire?

Annie

9 thoughts on “The Wind and March, 2022 (With Apologies to the Literary Giants)

    1. Thanks for raising the question, Neil. Unfortunately, it seems any reductions caused by the pandemic have been wiped out. And humans are creatively terrible in finding new ways to make things worse. I’ve tried to keep my distance from all this Bitcoin stuff, but it appears to involve users’ creating big carbon footprints.
      Alas!

      This piece talks about worldwide trends as of 10/21.

      https://www.reuters.com/business/energy/fossil-fuel-demand-shakes-off-pandemic-blow-climate-fight-2021-10-04/

      Liked by 2 people

      1. All’s well, thank you! I’m doing lots of letters/calls to legislators just now. I appreciate the motivation your writing gives me for that!

        Liked by 1 person

  1. Of fires lethal, we of the northwest
    Know all too much — each summer they’re our guest.
    As heat gets worse and worse, the die is cast;
    Each summer now is drier than the last.

    The wind that Zephyrus so foully breaks
    Indeed assaults the senses, as it takes
    From fire-ruined forests acrid smoke
    To humans’ habitations, so we choke.

    The eastern lands are doing what they can;
    In Europe, Egypt, India, Japan,
    The wind is harnessed, solar panels sprout;
    If our land lags, just thank the orange lout.

    With work, yes, we’ll cast off that oily mire;
    It’s past time that our fossil fuels retire.
    And if the world stamps out the bitcoin scam,
    That too will help us get out of this jam.

    Liked by 3 people

    1. Infidel:
      I’m pleased by your response in rhyme,
      Though sad about the Northwest clime.
      As for the orange lout you name,
      In this case others share some blame:
      If Manch’n’Sin could not be bought,
      We’d have some progress that we’ve sought.
      Still, led by youth with great desire,
      There’s hope we’ll rise above the mire!

      Liked by 2 people

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