I did steal the title for this one from "Fugue for a Darkening Island" by Christopher Priest, which seems at times whether it might be prophetic of the future. But I've kept away from his issues of ultra-nationalism and fleeing migrants from Africa, and concentrated more on the natural world around us. Today is traditionally when harvest festival is celebrated, and this poem is a dark mirror about the harvest - it actually uses the form and some lines from a well known harvest hymn. I also had in mind David Attenborough's stark warnings about extinction. Only at the end have I allowed some hope to creep in, because we must surely hope for something good to come from the perilous state of our world or perish, and if it is, it must come from our actions.
Fragments separate and scatter
Plague stretches over land
And fields, flooded, watered
The storm god’s might hand
Now comes the dark of winter
The famine, dearth of grain
The fading of the sunshine
And gales and the rain
Now comes the Unmaker
Of all things near and far
He withers tree and flower
Clouds hide the evening star;
The wind and waves obey him,
The dark lord of the dread
The black crows are his children,
The harbingers of dread
Peace is distant, ever further
The warring tribes in feud
The locusts eat the harvest
Our life, our health, our food;
And all there is to offer
A call to give, to love impart
The helping hands so needed now
And kindness in our heart
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