Back then it was all about balance

backyard wonky see-saws
mastered from discarded planks
and cylindrical barrels
my mother dispensing
tablespoons of cod-liver oil
followed by a Spanish orange
peeled and segmented for sucking.

Now I see anthracite gasses
sending pyro-cumulonimbus
to an already teetering ozone layer
fish full of microbeads navigating
tangled plastic-full seas.

In fifty years my great grandchildren
may speak of the last green leafed clementine
in a glass case ready for auction.