The Cacophony of Destruction
By Chloe E
Published 26 September 2023
The wind hears the dawn chorus
The sopranos, altos, tenors and bases, all singing their hearts out from the trees
It hears the grinding of the saws that cut those trees down.
The wind hears strumming
The cicadas and the beetles, the mellow strings hiding in the bushes
It hears the thump of the feet that trample those bushes flat
The wind hears booming, crashing
The waves beating the shore like a drum, the ocean churning
It hears the whir of the boats that spill oil in to the waves
The wind hears bubbles
The fish, like flutes, and oboes, and horns in the depths
The wind hears the splash of plastic falling, down, down, down
The wind hears the trumpets
The animals in the forest, calling out to each other
The wind hears the bang and pop of the guns in the forest
The wind hears everything
The symphony of life
The orchestra of nature
The cacophony of its destruction