Where tar sands explode as fire
Where oil spills are black tears
Into my river stretching far
It matters much to me
Where the forest birds tarry slow
Where bison graze & die
There's my boreal forest, my sky
It matters much to me
This land beats with grandfathers' blood
Water for brewing food
Thick oil for our birch canoes
Animals for kinship
My lantern's light is fading low
I raise my voice to wind
Is it too late, too late, I cry?
Death is noisy machine
Sucking each velvet stone to dust
Laying pipelines & belts
Contaminating air with sulfur
Trampling down aged trees
Twilight comes with heavy yoke
Choking every wildlife
With poison, we drink our stench
Money is new sun
Browning our pelts & copper pots
Minting palms with gold grit
Where are the watchmen?
Where are they?
Photo by JEFF MCINTOSH/THE CANADIAN PRESS
The Athabasca river, highway construction and suburbs seen from a helicopter in Fort McMurray, Alta., in July 2012.
I have been reading the Atkinson Series: Shifting Sands, Examining the Costs of Oil Sands Bargain. The Athabasca River originates from a glacier in Jasper National Park, located in the Rocky Mountains. It is the longest river in Alberta, and runs past the oil sands. Organizations like the Pembina Institute have long been asking for strict rules for oil sands developers and processors to protect the river.
For additional reading and to hear TED Talk video about Alberta Tar Sands Project, click here.
Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Poetics: What does the Watchman See?
Thanks for the visit ~
