Black Tide Rising

the crane swings over the dry creek
it pulls a vein of iron out
dust settles on my kitchen chair
a gray film hides every flower
you sign the paper in your office
the river turns a muddy brown
i see the birds fall from the branch
their feathers heavy with the soot

the tide is thick with grease
it coats the sand and every bone
you sell the earth for silver coins
then watch the garden turn to stone
the planet bleeds in oil and salt
we breathe the smoke of what you stole

my son reaches for the water
it sticks like tar between his toes
the plastic bottles float by
they bob against the rotting pier
you count the profit on your screen
while the forest loses its shade
i hold a handful of dry dirt
and feel it crumble in my palm

the truck leaves a black streak behind
it burns through the morning mist
a chemical smell fills my room
i scrub at the window glass
the white paint starts to peel away

the tide is thick with grease
it coats the sand and every bone
you sell the earth for silver coins
then watch the garden turn to stone
the planet bleeds in oil and salt
we breathe the smoke of what you stole

you watch the numbers climb up high
while the glacier weeps into salt
no ice remains on the peak
just a gray tomb under the sun
i see the map of a dying land

the bees have vanished from the field
they lie still among the weeds
a pesticide cloud hangs low
you spray the crop until it dies
i find a hollow shell on the porch

the tide is thick with grease
it coats the sand and every bone
you sell the earth for silver coins
then watch the garden turn to stone
the planet bleeds in oil and salt
we breathe the smoke of what you stole

no more green on the hill side
just the hum of the heavy drill
a fever burns in the soil
and the well is running dry