The Tribune

EDITOR, The Tribune.

Thanks for publishing the following poem

THE RISING SEA

listen to the singing

of the wetland birds;

listen to the music

of the rising sea.

Salt-water mangroves-

birds squawking, nesting, and

singing.

A tiny piece of nature-

a desert-dry wetland

bound to the east by a

dusty, white quarry road

and to the west by the Sound.

This wetland was our friend.

And it was like it belonged to us-

and it does.....

A small, white, blinding lake

took centre stage every year

on time and it was there

that bent-back men, women,

and after-school children

raked salt into buckets to last

until the next harvest;

just like our ancestors did

But now the Sound

has overflowed its banks,

and flooded the wetland,

creeping invisibly slow

up the seawall,

that was built to protect

the now asphalt-clad road

and us from nor'westers,

and ever increasing stronger

hurricanes.

Bonefish now school and feed

in the wetland where we walked,

and played, and the little glistening lake

with its sparkling diamonds

has not been seen in decades.

The birds are still around,

but one day, they too will be

gone having flown to higher

habitats or having drowned

due to climate change.

Listen to the silence

of the wetland birds;

listen to the music

of the rising sea.

Nature's eternal alarm clock

ticks non-stop

blaring alarms and signaling

to her multitudinous tenants

to pay up; to put her house

in order – no more the burning of

of fossil fuels, etc –- and to love,

protect, and respect her.

We are the children of this

Earth. Let's keep the children coming.

Listen to the music of the rising sea.

JEROME CARTWRIGHT

Nassau,

October 27, 2021.