Five
degrees
Five degrees seems so little
Yet
the changes would be extreme
For
there could be a torrent
From
what started as a stream.
But
I’m not talking water
But
a stream of refugees
Coming
from all directions
And
becoming one big sea.
Britain
could be a haven
Or
it might be our main role
To
merely be a stopping point
On
a passage to the poles.
A search
for cooler temperatures
And
a place of climate calm
A
place where food can be produced
Where
land can still be farmed.
It’s
hard to imagine how Britain would look
But
if you want to try
No
longer think of green and lush
But
parched and tinder dry.
Copyright: Mark Cowan
See earlier posts for context
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