Nitrogen Cascade

How green these suburbs are in spring,
When the breeze caresses branches in bloom

For pollinators that ride the southern express,

Bound for the north on lofty flyways.

They share rumors of the haunted east,

Where the Sea of Grass used to thrive

Beyond the Silver-Plated Mountains

That guard their Evergreen Empire,

Last bastion of a jaded frontier.

The Sea was drained last century,

Cut into shards of corn, wheat, soybeans

That speckle the land like a plaid shirt,

Glossed up by fertilizer undressed 

From a blue sky died by nitrogen.

What colors will the Empire turn

Once the drought spreads west,

Burning and cutting forests, ash-covered

Valleys that scar every meadow left.

They worry it will surmount the Cascades

In atmospheric waterfalls of ammonia

Like the last remaining natives removed,

Who defended the Sea for nature,

As much as their own survival

Depended on its preservation.