Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Poetry 2020complete | Page 110

inklings of what real trees
were: big, strong,
mighty…
baobabs are
native to botswana, dear
child, they don’t belong
here anymore than the
himalayan cedars or
the english yew
why has society
yearned for globalisation so
intensely that we’ve
exchanged even our trees!
only the very lungs of this
planet that combat all the
pollutants we pump into
this fragile, failing
ecosystem. look closely,
my love, and you’ll see
these trees are dying.
they’re dying because they
weren’t made to be
thousands of kilometres
away from their birthplace.
they’re dying because
we’re killing them and
ourselves along with them.
what do you mean!
we live in the greater bay area
life has never been greater
oh honey
but you see that thin veil
of grey, shielding the sun from
what would otherwise be a
brilliant hot glare that would
hurt your eyes, instead of only
irritating them?
what about it grandma eve
it’s been there forever
no dear
it wasn’t
certainly not when we
were young and sprightly just
like you
pollution wasn’t so bad
back then. every now and
then it got smoggy but never
permanently
now it’s like a cloud
that’s never left us
a presence always
looking over our shoulder
like we did something
wrong.