The months

With apologies to Sara Coleridge (1802-1852)

January brings the fires,
Dead koalas, rightwing liars.

February brings fierce storms,
Setting new destructive norms.

March brings toxic air alerts,
Gets so bad that breathing hurts.

April brings a silent spring,
No more songbirds left to sing.

May brings melting Arctic ice,
Polar bears must pay the price.

June brings gardens that can’t bloom,
Flowers stopped by insects’ doom.

Hot July brings parching drought,
Shrivelled crops that fail to sprout.

August brings Earth yet more grief,
Forests felled for prairie beef.

Sick September brings fresh hell,
Plastic seas of sewage smell.

Harsh October brings ocean rise,
Engulfing coasts as nature dies.

Dark November brings the worst,
Drowning cities die of thirst.

Then December brings the end:
A planet killed…comprehend?