Alone. So Alone is He

Through stinking, acrid smoke and fog,
No movement, no stirring of life can see;
He hears no birds, no barking dogs,
Alone, but all alone is he.

And now he feels a stirring breeze,
His face is seared by scorching heat;
So up he looks, no solace he sees,
While ashes whirl about his feet.

And on he stumbles to river bank,
Through pieces of plastic, bottles and rope;
Through dust and filth to ledge so dank,
No future there - no life, no hope.

The river – sluggish, far offshore -
A muddy trickle now opaque;
A bridge collapsed and used no more,
A corpse-littered city, ravaged by plague.

Pollution by humans wreaked its toll,
A rise in sea-level drowned the land;
With storms no longer under control -
That coastal towns could never withstand.

Alone, all alone is he!
Looking up to heaven he cries….
"What future there that I can see?"
With that he groans and down he lies…..


This poem was written following my viewing recent programmes on TV about the future of the world in ecological terms:  global warming, rising sea-levels, pollution and the destruction of the environment through political ineptitude on the part of several major world leaders. Two programmes in particular are worthy of mention – David Attenborough’s 'Blue Planet II'  and 'Stacy Dooley Investigates: Are your clothes wrecking the planet?'  There are, of course, many others.