Too late for the tomato plants,
the basil, the irrigation system
lying in a broken tangle
in the weedy front yard.
Too late to get enough sleep,
to eat right, for the exercises
that strengthen our bones.
Too late for green energy,
to keep cops from shooting black kids,
to infiltrate the master class,
to stop ripping up the earth’s belly
for chips to power our devices.
Too late to get gas before the crash.
Too late to stop the advance of Russian tanks,
rampaging flood waters,
galloping wildfires, droughts, famines,
rain of frogs. locusts in the alfalfa.
Too late for past dreams,
forgotten goals,
lost careers,
enough money
for a comfortable retirement.
Too stupid, lazy, ignorant, tired, mostly dog tired
and too ready for someone else to take over,
to tell us what to do, when to breathe.
Too late to even notice the end of the world
we might have prevented
if we were not just too late.
About the Poem
They say that yesterday, the 4th of July, 2023, was the hottest day on record, anywhere in the world. It’s just too late.
About the Author
Dotty’s work has appeared or is forthcoming in publications such as Rise Up Review, Poets Reading the News, Gyroscope, MacQueen’s Quinterly, anthologies such as the Marin Poetry Center Anthology, Moonshadow Sanctuary Press’ Enskyment, Topical Poetry, and others. She has had five chapbooks published, her latest from Main Street Rag, entitled Viruses, Guns and War. Thank you for reading these poems.