Climate Strikers

For B.M.

Your handmade sign
is stood ready for Friday’s
demonstration against
your distrust in our ways –

My grandfather’s choice
was the Peace Pledge Union –
he then had a quiet war
his boot on his spade’s shoulder

as he sliced dark soil in England
so claiming a holy conscience –
in that amorphous mass
who sought God’s thoughts –

No placards – he sent a postcard –
a small weight of words – first class –
to show his sense of disbelief
at such waste by warmongers –

Carry your panel high for a day –
and then again seven days later –
there is no one else to speak out –
ever since God quit your world


For BM

She is the girl next door,
there, ever-mirrored
either putting on
or, unequally, taking off
the considerations
of make-up, between
the piled demands of
revisions and homework
and the shouldering
of pressure – be correct,
even among friends:
her childhood is now
hung, stored, boxed;
she, these days, dictates
her wardrobe choice:
of what is to be kept,
or what is to be thrown.