The snow-capped hills call to me from my youth
No more the days of tumbling fields of white
The blinded, rushing mass demanding proof

So many, firm, unyielding to the truth
I weep, uncertain how to meet the fight
The snow-capped hills call to me from my youth

They will not hear, the stubbornly aloof
Their world shifts, clear as day, but out of sight
The blinded, rushing mass demanding proof

Immune to nature’s red-stained claw and tooth
Themselves they see apart from all our plight
The snow-capped hills call to me from my youth

My voice grows hoarse, I’m “strident”and “uncouth”
For simply giving voice to what is right 
The blinded, rushing mass demanding proof

Despondent, for they will not see the truth
I retreat to glorious days in fields of white
The snow-capped hills call to me from my youth
The blinded, rushing mass demanding proof

—Finalist, KYSO Flash “One Life, One Earth” Writing Challenge

Chris Cole

lives and works in Canberra, Australia. Possessed of a particular enthusiasm for short-form literature, cross-country skiing, and crepes that are cooked just right, he dodges marsupials on his way to work, and spends vast periods of time staring at the sky. He may or may not be far too familiar with 8-bit computer games from the 1980s.