Staghorn
Ashburn, VA
2019, Junior, Poetry & Spoken Word
Golden cacti spring from the depths
Of moon-blessed sand
Their long, intertwining fingers
Creating a water-borne woods
Meanwhile, a hundred feet overhead
Large cigarettes puff smoke-rings
Into a greenhouse dome
Clouds, clouds, then poisonous air
And the ants, the people
The corporations, the smokers
The careless, the ignorant
Are each their own lighters
Click. They switch on the same lamp
One with an impenetrable shade
Which echoes every flame
Back onto the earth’s warming skin
And in waves, it descends
Down, down a scuba diver’s path
To the moon-blessed sand
Where it seeps into the staghorn
In turn, the coral bleaches
Its once vibrant color
Pressed out of its pores
Like a sickly puss
Now they are gray
Not golden, not yellow, not lemon
Only gray
The color of life without soul
However, it doesn’t stand out
In a sea of losses
In a sea of bones
In a sea that has gone monochromatic
Reflection
For a couple of years, I have progressively become more interested in climate change and the growing effects it has on our planet. More specifically, however, I have begun to study different species in the ocean that have become increasingly vulnerable to this problem, one of which being the staghorn coral. It’s tragic how such a beautiful organism could be bleached to such a depressing state, and it inspired me to write this poem. In the end, my goal is to remind people of what’s at stake, and all we have to lose if we don’t start reconsidering our actions. The staghorn is simply one of many creatures that have been ruined because of climate change.