Do they notice?
Do they wonder why?
The once soft grass, cool in the mouth
now dry, crunchy
Cutting into the soft flesh as it is chewed.
the once cool dirt under the trees
now hot dust
the tree just a black ashy stick
where a pine used to be
and the sun bearing down and down and down
with no relief
Even the pond
yesterday’s refuge of crisp water
and tasty fish
is now a hole
filled with warm green sludge.

I’m sure they notice
But do they wonder why?
And do they blame us?

Do they blame me?