A suit of wings may be what’s needed, to soar above it all, though we’ve Icarus’ example as warning. From this suit of wings, no wax will melt, no hubris bring a fall. We’ll stay within reasonable realm, just high enough to skim the fires, the floods, the locust swarms, angry plagues of retribution. Perchance, above carbon clouds of dread, we’ll see solution, receive survival vision. Perhaps a topographical map of how to save us. With rainbow wings, searching contour lines, our flight buoyed by the spirit of regal feathered birds who glide on winds of hope, we hunt for mercy. Marjorie Moorhead Marjorie Moorhead writes from the river valley boarder of NH/VT. She is the author of Survival: Trees, Tides, Song (Finishing Line Press 2019), Survival Part 2: Trees, Birds, Ocean, Bees (Duck Lake Books 2020), and In My Locket, and Every Small Breeze, both forthcoming in 2023/24. Marjorie's poem can be found in many literary journals and anthologies as well.