Storm’s A’ Comin’- Poem by Sara

My corner of the world sleeps
Mostly silent, subtracting the
Sounds of snores and the cooing and crying
Of the little ones.
You may think it’s peaceful--
Not for long!
There is a beastly storm coming,
As soon as they wake up that is.
If they never open their eyes,
They’ll be too blinded to see the storm.
Oh,
But the violent storm is coming
Either way. Only a few
Of us see it coming.
We will be prepared.
We will wake up loved ones
We will seek shelter,
And we will survive.
Open your eyes, and
Save your lives.
Get to safety now.

Appalachia

At lower elevations,
At the beginning of my journey,
I am captivated by
A cacophony of colors.
The trail winds its way
Next to a heavy-flowing stream.
This path should’ve been named
“Waterfall Way.”
As time goes on, the path gets steeper
And rougher.

Further up, towards the top of the trail, 
Tons of coniferous trees
Let the light shine bright.
Little orange needles litter the path.

I could take other trails
To higher elevations,
But up there it snowed,
And I think I should head back
Because silly Sara
Didn’t bring her snowshoes
Or any other winter gear.

I’m happy with my little hike
To Brad’s Bluff, Lila’s Ledge,
Crystal Cascades,
And Lowe’s Bald Spot;
No need for the 5,000’ mountaintops.
Not today, anyway.

Perfection

I like the roads where the trees
	Make a canopy over the route.
I like the journey that makes me feel 
	Lost, but not a scary lost: a
Lost that says “let’s explore our way
	Out of here.”
I like the trails that bring me to
	Where flowers grow, but trees don’t.
I like my summits windy, and
I like my parking areas muddy.
I like my life wild out there,
	And peaceful in my head.
I like this little corner of the world
	Known as the White Mountains.
Yeah, I like it just like this.

Balance

I’ve got this feeling
That I’m going to regret this later.
I can’t wait
To get my conscience back.
The cage of the dock,
And the freedom of the ocean
Keep me around
Because it’s a perfect balance
That fits oh so aptly
Because it’s a balance 
I struggle to find.

It reminds me of a tree,
A conifer,
Showing it’s green needles
In the winter, with fresh snow
Littering the branches,
But still green,
Telling us we can survive
Even the harshest of winters,
But we still must be wary of
Forest fires in the heat of summer.

Dire Fire

How can I sleep
When polar bears are dying?
Climate change has us frying?
And so many people denying?
We could be saving a whole planet.
Instead we say “forget it, goddammit”
They think it’s more important to slam it,
Drain every resource cooked over too many years.
All I have for this situation is tears,
“Let’s forget it and have a couple beers,”
They say. I can’t watch this destruction
While big companies focus on construction,
And all we care about is production,
And filling up pockets so deep.
For the loss of snow leopards we weep.
I ask again, “how can I sleep?”