Today's prompt was to write an outsider poem. This came from a story on NPR about how global warming has changed the migratory patterns of birds and other animals. It's kind of heavy-handed and tree-hugger-ish.
A Robin Speaks on Global Warming
It was warm in the wintering lands,
sun had melted the snow, green
burst from the tips of every tree, through
the dark soil, the first tiny flowers
were smiling, telling us to go home.
We flew north. Wind, clouds, snow
in the air. The spring mating grounds
are still snow-covered. There is nothing
to eat. We scratch through snow,
scavenge for shriveled berries. We
build nests, huddle together and wait
for warmth while we curse those
who've changed the rules we've followed
since our ancestors first sprouted feathers
and made their way to these mountains
in the springtime of a cooler planet.