Climate by Jenni Mazaraki

It comes and goes, this cold drop
A sheet draped over panic, not delicate

Not even the well of water in holiday snaps
Over magnificent falls will smother the burn

It’s a drowning of sorts, but much slower
A slow reveal of devastation

Saltwater rising, lapping at new school shoes
Ash scented sky landing on ribbons in freshly brushed hair

It pushes at my tongue, I take the sourness
Of forests aflame and translate for you

Lungs filled, voice like gravel
Brackish water stings, but not as much

As when I sweep damp tendrils from your smooth brow
Dam-like, withholding the truth of the day

So that you can skip to school with your backpack
Filled up with all I have promised you

Looking forward to the small cupcake in your lunchbox
Baked in preparation the night before

To sweeten the fall.

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