Poems and Thoughts    by Frank Maurer

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Climate Change. Slowly the temperature rises on our home planet. We argue, deney, affirm; and many of our politicians Ignore the predictions of 'most all of our scientists. We foolishly identify ourselves by our stand politically As to what should be done--if anything-- For our slowly changing--frog in the pot--climate, Until it is definitely too late to survive comfortably, Except, perhaps, in the far north and a bit in the distant south? Our potential 11 billion may be shaved down to 3? Humans have always migrated to save themselves, As have many of our fellow species. Will our mass migration to the poles, Having our generally aggressive innate behaviour-- So un-Bonobo-like-- be our ultimate undoing? Please dear people, heed what may be the new pending nomadic century And, for us, our descendants, and most, its absolute watery or firey deleterious outcome! Frank Maurer 5 November 2022 12:00 PM.