Challenge
Write from the perspective of Mother Nature viewing her ruined earth
I am doing a photography exhibition in Manchester City centre (UK) and want a poem that I will record being spoken to go alongside my photographs of moorland fires, the winner will have their work displayed at the exhibition and will be credited.
Child
My child
So many have come, many more have gone
Scaled, winged, horned
You were so fragile
Perhaps that is why you hurt me most
Carving out your space in me
Bending my rules to your will
And so we suffer; you and I
Only the fringes feel the pain
No life support can bring me back
Regret is fleeting-ah, my child
The best and worst I ever had