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  • Home
  • About
    • About Us
    • Contributors
    • Support Us
  • Submit
  • Current Issue
  • Archive
    • Volume I >
      • Issue I
      • Issue II
      • Issue III
      • Issue IV
    • Volume II >
      • Issue I
      • Issue II
      • Issue III
      • Issue IV
    • Volume III >
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    • Volume V >
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    • Volume VI >
      • Issue I
      • Issue II
      • Issue III
      • Issue IV

Solastalgia

by Anne Gruner
I fear I see beyond the years--
the beginning of the end.
I sense we're losing all that’s dear
and won't reverse the trend.

With all the many floods and fires
we still deny our eyes,
as things around us get more dire--
brown dust, black death, gray skies.

My eyes are dimmed by frequent tears
for burning forests and plains,
for darkened seas, once spacious skies,
and endless rivers of rain.

I rue the loss of brotherhood,
the home of the free and the brave,
now comes the Star of Wormwood
to put it in the grave.

May I not see beyond the years
to where our greed will lead.
Instead, I pray you quell my fears
with love and mercy please.

Confirm our souls in self-control,
in recycling what we can,
not buying what we do not need,
and finally taking a stand.
​
Lord, shed your grace on all of us
and help our cities gleam.
It’s only you whom we can trust
to protect us from the extreme.


Anne Gruner is a two-time Pushcart nominee in fiction and non-fiction whose poetry has appeared in numerous print and online publications, including Amsterdam Quarterly Review, Beltway Poetry Quarterly, New Verse News, Written Tales, and Spillwords. Her other work is found in Persimmon Tree, Hippocampus Magazine, Dogwood Review, Third Flatiron Review, Constellations: Journal of Poetry and Fiction, and others. A former CIA analyst and lawyer, Gruner lives in McLean, Virginia, with her husband and two golden retrievers. Visit her at https://www.annegruner.com.