El Niño

Ghosts and angels—perhaps they’re the same
Unlit by biology’s mundane flame.
El Niño carries its own poltergeists:
Tricky trade winds—the planet’s device
To shock the seas back into balance,
To pacify the convulsive dance
Of weather we have driven insane;
The tarantella of gulf streams maimed.
We twisted cold currents, scarred the wind
And tore apart the delicate skin
Of our banded, trembling atmosphere.
So now we’re haunted by figures of fear--
The brutal measures the earth takes to heal
As heated oceans writhe like eels
Evading the touch of human hands,
Rejecting us from surface to sands.
Alien fish invade Northern waters
As hurricanes soar—chaos’s daughters.

Elizabeth Hurst

If you have any thoughts about this poem, Elizabeth Hurst  would like to hear them.