Clear, Gray Skies

I was in Washington D.C.
When I met a man of great stature
Who claimed to see a dying fetus
In the womb of Mother Nature
He couldn’t quite explain,
But his language was rather harsh
And he cried when he said
Concrete destroyed the lake and marsh

He was holding a pop can
And he threw it on the sidewalk
Saying, “one more couldn’t hurt”
As he outlined his body with chalk

I feared for his life
I didn’t know what to say
Looked to a crowd for help, turned around
Then he faded away

God, save his soul, I thought
As I went to buy a newspaper at a kiosk
Tried handing the man a dollar
He shook his head, said I couldn’t afford the cost

So I laid down, baking in the sun
On the lawn of the Washington memorial
Didn’t know whether I should write
An obituary or tutorial

It’s easier to write about death
Than a guide to life as smog filled my nostrils
Inhaling a deep breath, I looked around
And noticed the asphalt was growing pustules

I walked around, but couldn’t think
As car exhaust got in my eyes
Couldn’t imagine a better day
Beautiful sun and clear, gray skies.