Saturday, February 1, 2014

We Can Export the Smoke Stacks But Smog's Still on Our Backs

Heirs of Air
by Rachel Hoyt

image by Paul via

The air is fair.
Nowhere can bear
A snare to care.
What's here goes there.
What's near we share.
What's bare can pair.
All tears will wear.
We're heirs of air.

Copyright © 2014 Rachel Hoyt. All rights reserved.

This poem was inspired by the latest proof that pollution
is a problem that requires a global solution.

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  1. we treat the air and the earth as if our children were not heirs to the air...and will inherit our messes...

  2. Hi Rachel---whoof, I've been gone too long. Excellent poem--no one wants to be the heir (air) apparent to the mess we've been making. Keep trying to make the good decisions to do my part, every little bit helps :-) Poetry too


Rhyming or not, I would like a lot to hear the thoughts my words brought...