Oh Children

Oh children, will you grow up in a world without birds?

Will there be crickets where you are?

Will there be asters?

Clams, at a minimum?

Maybe not clams.

We know there will be waves.

Not much needed for those.

A breeze, a blow, a cyclone.

Ripples as well.

Stones.

Stones are consoling.

There will be sunsets as long as there is dust.

There will be dust.

Oh children, will you grow up in a world without songs?

Without pines?

Without mosses?

Will you spend your life in a cave?

A sealed cave with an oxygen line, until there's a failure?

Will your eyes blank out like the white eyes of sunless fish?

In there, what will you wish for?

Oh children, will you grow up in a world without ice?

Without mice?

Without lichens?

Oh children, will you grow up?

- Margaret Atwood