by Christopher Clauss
I thought
for a moment
of microplastics
at the sea floor;
I have given up
plastic straws for
the rest of my days
The thought meandered, then
I realized the problem
All the single-use
plastic, whether it is
in the form of bags or
forks
It is all trash
to deal with, both sooner and later
mourning its wastefulness
celebrating its utility
meant to be discarded
I prayed
for a miracle
and found refuge
in twilight;
a prayer piped through
the quiet seconds that passed by,
bringing a peace
inwardly, a blessing
that was not my own
supplication that runs like
something non-Newtonian,
the sudden conviction that
into this mess of ethics
and logic we will have
the choice to be pious
or a heretic
with a simple thought
with a flick of the wrist
Christopher Clauss (he/him) is an introvert, Ravenclaw, father, poet, photographer, and middle school science teacher in rural New Hampshire. His mother believes his poetry is “just wonderful.” Both of his daughters declare that he is the “best daddy they have,” and his pre-teen science students rave that he is “Fine, I guess. Whatever.” Christopher’s first full-length book of poetry, Photosynthesis & Respiration is now available from Silver Bow Press.