The month of May not being known here
for such a rumpled drifting rain-filled sky,
my dreams are for Aladidin’s lamp
to rub to banish cloud and wind,
vanish them and send them
to a land that needs the water.
The man who wields the clumsy axe
that fells the trees of tropic forests,
shatters the balance of life.
It’s you who makes this crazy turnabout of climate,
causes famine on dustbowl wasteland far away.
Your name if I could find it
would be forever reviled.
Instead of destroying everything
why can’t you settle for what you have?
My somewhat confused Wordle will need some editing, I fear, before it really says what I mean! I’m sure there will be some worthier wordles over at Brenda’s Sunday Whirl