Rocks poke through beaches like broken noses

The first exposed Extremities of mangled twisted creatures are beginning to appear,

Piled high and pressed for 10000 years;

But now Mother Natures stopped doing all she could to hide their features.

Time is up, we’ve overspent, our environmental account is in arrears.

Larger stones reach up higher,

Some stand proud like they were putting up a hand.

Desperate to relieve their plight

Simply trying to escape with all their might,

“Rescue me … my ends in sight” they ask and hope we’ll lend our ears.

Like the ground sighed and pushed the once were hidden bodies closer to the sky…

“I can’t hold them anymore! 

My grasp of what was life has begun to die” …she cries.

This isn’t a deserted beach in 1944

These aren’t the remnants of those poor lads from the Great War

This is here and this this now

These are our beaches not a foreign field or distant shore, on which everybody lies.

History consumes us…

Yet Earth has lost another battle

In this end game for ecological life.

This coastal erosion thanks to a petrol devotion.

Everyone too absorbed in the materiality of buying their best life.

Emotionally distracted by the past to rescue earth.

Too vacant or unwilling to help her in her future fight.

Well the sands of time are running out and the stones stretch out into the night.

Soon a barren planet devoid of life.

A rock silently screaming yet still   reaching out into the cosmos looking for the light.