Not quite mid-day and crow scouts
are making a colossal ruckus in the elm.
I go out to see what has them calling
such an urgent alarm.
Then I catch sight of the reason—
a rarely seen bobcat is slinking
down our hill to the thicket of oaks.
How intelligent these birds are
to warn their black-feathered brethren
of approaching danger.
Just yesterday I was lamenting
the steady decline of abalone
on our California coast from disease,
overfishing, and disappearing kelp.
As a girl, I’d find iridescent fragments
on the beach, edges rounded by waves
thrashing against rocks and gravely sands.
From one smooth piece, I fashioned a necklace
for my mother, strung on a leather cord
knotted with blue and black beads.
I miss spotting those glimmering,
glistening, rainbow-hued shells at the tideline,
treasures gradually perishing.
Maybe species come and species go,
but for a time, I’ve been hearing
nature’s distress calls urging us
to take serious note of the loss.
—
Carolyn Chilton Casas lives on the central coast of California. Her poetry has been published in numerous journals and anthologies including The Wonder of Small Things: Poems of Peace and Renewal. Carolyn is a Reiki master and teacher who often explores ways of healing in her articles written for magazines in several countries. More of her work can be found on Facebook or Instagram and in her newest collection of poetry, Under the Same Sky.
