Dirty Windshields and Greasy Streets

I dedicate this poem to the memory of naturalist extraordinaire, my cousin Jeff Shryer, who would've understood that I am mourning his loss and the loss of a time when there was more nature.

I long for dirty windshields

The kind so common not so long ago

All splattered

And scattered

with delicate wings of dragonflies

And insects of all kinds

Smeared into a mushy mess by my wiper’s attempts

To clear my driver’s view

After a day’s drive in the country

That is no more.

I long for squishy, greasy streets

Of mayfly hatches and frog migrations

Causing cars to swerve

And drivers to curse.

I was always sad to see so many

fabulous creatures who died because of me but

Their ancient magnificence

Was better off

When I had to scrape their innocent bodies

Off my windshields and tires

For that would mean they were still

Here in the kind of volume nature needs

Now I save money on carwashes

And mourn the loss of their collective beauty

And contemplate what it means to live in a more

sterile world without dirty windshields and greasy streets.