Although the light of the sea
creeps seventy miles inland
it fails to illuminate this page.

But it brings news of tidepools
flushed by unnatural warming,
stocks of herring and haddock

depleted and too small to eat.
Plastic waste drifts from China
around the horn to wash ashore

on Copacabana Beach where
Madonna drew one and a half
million for a public concert.

I wish I had been there to gawk
at the overwhelming landscape
lush with music and luxury.

Trying to read about the crowd
and its response to that aging star
I can barely make out the words.

The light of the sea doesn’t cast
the lanky shadows I need
so I turn my face to the sun,

which denies the allegation
that it presides over a planet
too ignorant to know it’s dying.

About the Author:

William Doreski lives in Peterborough, New Hampshire. He has taught at several colleges and universities. His most recent book of poetry is Cloud Mountain (2024). His essays, poetry, fiction, and reviews have appeared in many journals.