It's an oily Summer.
What a bummer.
Dead birds and dirty waters,
no work for fisherman fathers.
It's an oily Summer.
gulf people very somber.
Tons of dead fish slime,
merchants without tourist lines.
It's an oily Summer.
Oil company no charmer.
Wetland lovers have the blues,
Gooey stuff in the bayoues.
It's an oily Summer.
Folks trying to get calmer.
Clean-up has finally begun,
oil soaked sand at dawn!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Yes, there is that other side of nature that we hate, and I see that even that can inspire a poem. Adeline