On a Line from Valéry (The Gulf War)
　　by Carolyn Kizer
　　 The whole green sky is dying. The last tree flares

　　 With a great burst of supernatural rose

　　 Under a canopy of poisonous airs.

　　 Could we imagine our return to prayers

　　 To end in time before time's final throes，

　　 The green sky dying as the last tree flares？

　　 But we were young in judgement， old in years

　　 Who could make peace； but it was war we chose，

　　 To spread its canopy of poisoning airs.

　　 Not all our children's pleas and women's fears

　　 Could steer us from this hell. And now God knows

　　 His whole green sky is dying as it flares.

　　 Our crops of wheat have turned to fields of tares.

　　 This dreadful century staggers to its close

　　 And the sky dies for us， its poisoned heirs.

　　 All rain was dust. Its granules were our tears.

　　 Throats burst as universal winter rose

　　 To kill the whole green sky， the last tree bare

　　 Beneath its canopy of poisoned air.