by Julia Griffin
“First green leaf on moon dies as temperatures plummet”—The Guardian
See how the first green leaf, the shoot of cotton,
That bloomed so bravely all the afternoon,
Tonight has perished, frozen and forgotten,
Abandoned on the far side of the Moon!
So passes, like the passing of a comet,
All earthly life. Is that a theme for mirth?
I see a moral here; let’s profit from it:
For any earthly chance at life, choose Earth.