I am honored to have a poem included in
THE WRITE LAUNCH Winter 2024 Quarterly: Climate Crisis.
something small has died
by Patricia J. Franz
A response poem to Lacy M. Johnson’s “How to Mourn a Glacier.”
The New Yorker, 10/20/19.
This poem first appeared in The Write Launch Winter 2024: Climate Crisis
Who is to say why some days words wash over us while other days we are knocked flat?
Somewhere around the start of the pandemic lockdown, my husband and I watched the documentary The Game Changers. The next day, we became vegans, to the delight of our younger son who had made the same choice years earlier. It was less a decision about healthy living as it was a choice to show up for the planet.
“Do not take your broken heart and go home.”
“Showing up …is a holy practice.”
This week, Rabbi Sharon Brous‘ wisdom and my very first journal publication, combined to once again insist, like the temper tantrum of a toddler, I pay attention.
When I read Lacy M. Johnson’s article, I cried. I cried for dismissing my son’s existential angst as drama. I cried for a planet desperately trying to keep up with extraction economies. I cried for the 2 billion children that will join this earth in the next 25 years who will never see a glacier.
And then I wrote. And I’m still writing. Trying to find the words that might knock someone else flat when they let the reality of the climate crisis fully sink in. The Write Launch Winter 2024 issue is a compilation of responses. I am humbled to have a poem included. My desk is littered with titles like OF TIME AND WATER (A. Magnuson) and THE FUTURE WE CHOOSE (C. Figueres and T. Rivett-Carnac). And their words break my heart. And I would like to go home and stick my head in the sand because there are so many complicating issues that make up the phrase climate crisis.
And then I hear “Showing up…is a holy practice.” I hear “What will you tell your granchildren when they ask you what you did?” And I understand that I have to show up. Not just to do everything I can, but to do everything necessary. Because it is not too late.
It’s Poetry Friday!
Come let the words of my fellow poets wash over you this weekend. You can find the round up of links with Susan at Chicken Spaghetti.
Patricia Franz writes picture books and poetry. She believes children, dogs, and sourdough have a lot to teach us about life, joy, and wonder. She has raised two boys, four dogs, and holds a master’s degree in Theology with a focus on children’s spirituality. Patricia, her husband, her Bernese Mountain dog, Bonny, and her sourdough starter split their time between the Arizona desert and the Sierra Nevada mountains. 
Thank you for this, Patricia. As much as we’ve done, we can do more to show up
– the despair is too inviting, otherwise.
Yes! There’s still time!
First, your fervor is a tiny bit rewarded by having a poem included in the publication, Patricia. I hear you crying out, am doing what I can personally but also within the political arena, choosing those who will make the future decisions, hoping that will be part of the help. Your poem is a masterful and poignant image. Thank you!
Our vote may be the best way to show the grandkids’ grandkids that we did SOMETHING.
This is so incredibly powerful. As the mother of a young child, I feel this hopelessness sometimes about the world he is inheriting. It’s easy to feel that nothing an individual can do matters, so why bother. But that’s simply not true. We can’t do everything, but that doesn’t mean we can’t do what we can. <3
And there is SOOO much we can do still! Among others: VOTE!
This is beautiful, Patricia. Makes me gasp. Thank you so much for sharing your words with us.
Thank you, Leslie!
You and Heidi seem like you are on the same page. I appreciate your fervor! I wrote a picture book about the Montreal Protocol last fall and I am not trying to get it published with the fervor that I should. Life can be very distracting.
The children in our world need your words, Tabatha!
Your words are so powerful, Patricia, and this is not the first time you have brought me to tears with them. Thank you for now calling me to action. And your publication is certainly something to celebrate.
Thank you, Rose. If nothing else of mine ever gets published, I’m grateful that I could add some small push in support of the planet. WORDS MATTER.
A powerful poem and passionate commentary! Congratulations on your publication and keep shouting from the mountaintops!
Thank you, Mary Lee. I’m just shouting with others 🙂 -hoping people are listening and taking action.
Patricia. Thank you for knocking me flat with this stunning poem.
Sadly, thank you.
I am deeply moved by your poem and your whole post. The concrete style you used for your poem is powerful–especially that last word. Thank you for speaking up.
Thank you, Karin. Yes, the concrete form really worked well for this. I was super happy they published it intact.
Patricia, thank you so much for showing up and writing this poem. You are inspiring others here and in The Write Launch, as well. “Showing up…is a holy practice.” Indeed, and I want to show up more, as I read this post. Thank you for the challenge.
Right now, it’s my only holy practice!
Thank you, Patricia! For showing up, for writing, for sharing.
Thank you, Ruth.
Really, really love this poem and I’m so glad they published it.
Thanks, Marcie. Me, too.
Congratulations, Patricia, on your gorgeous poem. And thanks for sharing these words: “Do not take your broken heart and go home.”
“Showing up …is a holy practice.” They are true about so many challenges, from grief to parenthood to creative struggles… Are those Brous’ words? (I can’t read the NYT article.)
Those words come from Rabbi Brous. Look her up. She is a prophet!
That’s a powerful poem, and beautifully designed to be so affective. Congrats on the publication!
Thank you, Susan!
Patricia, your poem always make me want to stop reading and write…I love how you used the type fonts and sizes to emphasize meaning. I remember hearing that line, “something small has died,” in a movie. It’s such a simple description but wow the impact. Great title and climate poem.
Thank you, Linda. The concrete form carried a lot of the weight on the words.
Patricia, after hearing about your new publication at yesterday’s Think Poetry event, I knew that I had to read more about your climate crisis poem. It is a masterful piece of writing that does not disappear into the evening wind but dips into a grieving heart. The planet is our treasure. I feel its warmth, its frozen cold, and mourn with you. Your format for your poem is piercing as it should be. It brings light to issues that have been festering since my college days. When will Earth’s inhabitants learn that our little ones need to grow up in a purified environment that continues to showcase the beauty of an aging land. Hats off to you, Patricia. I look forward to further poems that make us think about an ew pathway. Have a wonderful day.
Thank you for your kind words, Carol. I’m so glad we’re part of a new Think Poetry adventure together!
A beautiful and provoking (in the best way) poem. I love how you’ve used font variations of size and color to reinforce the words and message of the poem.
Thank you, Elisabeth. I was grateful they could retain the form, too.
Thank your for your inspired work, I love how the poem looks on the page. We all need to be reminded to do the best, in spite off all the noise, and posts like yours does that. Thank you!
Thank you, Janice. We have to keep finding hope everywhere!
so, so heartbreaking but so important and empowering — thank you