A deluge of black oil killed a sparrow.
While a canada goose and great blue heron are
being treated from chemical spill.
The snow of the mountains feed me.
Wide is my mouth, awash with fish.
A strong river, I define valleys and foothills.
Sadness is the whale's echoing grunts.
Grief is eerie silence from the dying fish. Is this
what we wish of death, a poison poured, toxic finis?
I run alongside the prairies, yellow under
afternoon sun. Forests keel under my tides.
A benevolent river, I mark journeys anew.
I dig a grave until I couldn't count anymore-
A great blue heron brought in for treatment at Maidstone, Sask., near the site of a pipeline leak that spilled more than 200,000 litres of oil into the North Saskatchewan River. (Submitted by Wendy Wandler ) Source
Posted for D'verse Poets Pub- OpenLinkNight, starts at 3 pm EST. I am your host so please come and join us with your poem.
I read this news over the weekend and this picture struck me. The Muskoday First Nation has declared a state of emergency.