Fall

And all the King’s horses

and all the King’s men

could not put Humpty Dumpty

 back together again.

So catch him before he falls,

fragile shell-shrapnel in Earth’s heart

like ice sloughing off from glaciers

receding like a hairline into pinpricks of ice.

Catch him before he falls,

before the sea currents are scrambled

when the cold glacier melt-off dilutes warm ocean currents,

freezing the life-blood of the world.

Catch him before he falls,

before, sizzling and frying on the sidewalk,

his oasis shrivel into deserts with only

the sad sand and sunken ships to mourn him.

Catch him before he falls,

before the hard-boiled tundra permafrost

becomes un-refrigerated like week-old Easter eggs

and the grasses rot and reek of C02.

He falls

he falls

he falls.

Catch him.