Hazy Days


The haze sneaked in 
with its fingers of grey, 
and on reaching the skies 
it stole the sun away, 
it subdued the clouds 
and hid them from sight, 
it changed the daylight hours 
into one ghostly night. 




To escape the acrid smoke
as they go about their tasks,
(and living in misery)
are the citizens behind masks,
children are in dire straits
with throats that itch and rasp,
and clogged with dust are the
tiny lungs as for air they gasp.



Fires let loose by man
in plantations are burning,
winds in accord with their seasons
across the seas are blowing,
Mother Nature as she watches,
if she could, would implore
"Humans, this is one catastrophe
you can't blame me for."