Our Shrinking Plot of Earth

Blue whales bathe in our birdbath
cradling the Atlantic,

our chilly attic the outer atmosphere,
its drop-ceiling

a cloak of altocumuli.  Our footfalls
extinguish species;

Our breaths brew cyclonic storms;
Each of our verses

is a new tongue.  Inside our firepits,
we replant redwoods,

dump the Sahara into our sandbox,
our master bedroom

melancholically divided into two
by China’s Great Wall.

The water pressure in our shower
is Niagara Falls,

&  the steep steps leading upstairs
are the Himalayas;

yet our roof’s stars keep blinding us
to all these wonders.