Or just the Med throwing her love in the air,
A little drop of kindness for burnt grass
And dried flowers beat by winds at war?
When the Sirocco carries sand,
Does it not also drag fear and pain,
Unseen shadows of engines
That move mountains and cross howling seas?
Are cold, harsh, northern winds whipping us
With the last breaths of polar bears,
Of desolate lands, of displaced people
Holding their shame with gritted teeth?
Rapacious greed slaughters us all
Before our bowl of gruel.
PHOTOGRAPH BY PAUL SOUDERS, CORBIS http://news.nationalgeographic.com/news/2014/03/140331