Erratic tears

 

Off Oregon, Washington shores,

hulking above cove, beach, forest,

glacial erratics cry in silence.

 

They don't take a stance on much 

at all, remain coolly apart 

from debates of wind, clean water, 

 

global warming, coal. Erratics 

don't give a damn they are called 

anomalous plodders, enigmas,

 

sporadic ho-hums. Seas sinking

Florida Keys, arbors kiwied 

on Seattle streets mean nothing

 

to orphans ripped from Montana 

to coast, abandoned for millennia now,

weeping, waiting for a bit of hope.

                               Timothy Pilgrim