Each of us better than the last

at leaving a footprint.

Why should I care?

Why should you?

The floods are few and far between.

There’s not enough to burst our guilt.

Today we have enough water to drink.

This drought of care dries up the land

But doesn’t cause us to think.

Drip drop.

Drip drop.

When will it stop?

Tomorrow never comes.

When will we see what is happening?

Complacent in our cooled rooms

Whilst the world outside us burns.

The Tui have stopped singing.

The mighty Mohaka dribbles.

The beautiful bush turns to dust.

No more ferns or flax.

No more Kiwi or Kaka.

No more us.