by Christopher Clauss
I thought for a moment of microplastics at the sea floor; I have given up plastic straws for the rest of my days
The thought meandered, then I realized the problem All the single-use plastic, whether it is in the form of bags or forks It is all trash to deal with, both sooner and later mourning its wastefulness celebrating its utility meant to be discarded
I prayed for a miracle and found refuge in twilight; a prayer piped through the quiet seconds that passed by, bringing a peace
inwardly, a blessing that was not my own supplication that runs like something non-Newtonian, the sudden conviction that into this mess of ethics and logic we will have the choice to be pious or a heretic with a simple thought with a flick of the wrist
Christopher Clauss (he/him) is an introvert, Ravenclaw, father, poet, photographer, and middle school science teacher in rural New Hampshire. His mother believes his poetry is “just wonderful.” Both of his daughters declare that he is the “best daddy they have,” and his pre-teen science students rave that he is “Fine, I guess. Whatever.” Christopher’s first full-length book of poetry, Photosynthesis & Respiration is now available from Silver Bow Press.
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