Based on a Golden Shovel after “Rabbits and Fire” by Alberto Ríos
summer’s end. dried grasses hunched over, tired. they
have danced with the wind but won’t part for us, so we run
with blades slashing our arms, faces turned away
as if there is an escape from
the seasons. clouds pass over. rain never falls. the
sunburned fields linger on the edge of flame.
summer’s end. waves break fierce and muddied. they
rush the barricades of human civilization
without mind to city or country and bury us
in their churning embrace. we flail. we
scream. water fills our mouths before sound can escape.
there will be no ark to keep our history.
summer’s end. fog resting heavy in the valleys. the clouds
turn and turn the world grey. the droplets
battle sunlight and win. in the distance, the mountains,
helpless. through the endless dawn, a whisper
foreshadows fimbulwinter. the
birds fall silent, a protest against the anthropocene.
Maggie Wang is seventeen and originally hails from Virginia. Her poetry has appeared in Girls Right the World and is forthcoming in the Alexandria Quarterly. She has also been recognized by the Scholastic Writing Awards, the Parkmont Poetry Festival, the Folger Shakespeare Library, and the Poetry Society’s Young Poets Network. When not writing poetry, she enjoys taking walks and playing the piano.