The Texas plains have emptied out.
The people all are gone.
New Mexico's well are dry, and
all who could have said goodbye
a few of the old ones hang on still
high in the mountains they dwell
collecting what little snow
falls in the winter, harvesting the rain.
The weather folk foretold the end
many years ago, but like the rest we
reveled in our ignorance and told ourselves
the lies that drought would come and go,
climate change denied.
And now Polaris rises high over a desert
once deep in ice above a continent
still shrinking borders slowly fading
into a warm sea creeping inland
submerging empty streets once filled
with humanity that no longer exists
as we were.