Clime, a poem written by A.M. Torres at



written by: A.M. Torres



I can feel the heat as it scalds me
orange skies resembling flames
this is not like old summers
the trees limp in sorrow
the sun shoots heat rays
I dreamed we would travel
to Canada snow
until you perished
on that May humid day.

I dream of escaping
away from oil wells
to hide in deep woods
should any remain
I’d run into deer. Perhaps a bear too
they are lost like this human
longing escape. Their woods annihilated
for money and greed.

Elephant tusks, hundreds of trash
drought in some lands, floods drowning fast
they could have saved you
but you were a speck. No different from earth
expendable us.
I want winter trees. Cool Autumn winds
to see nature’s art
in hopes we can breathe.
Clouds and black smoke
cutting our air. Leaving us dry
barren despair.

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