To the New Earth

No surprise that you’re brilliant and clean, quick 
as flames, bright as a Urim and Thummim.
But some days I miss the Old Earth, clouds
that brought not just the smell of rain
but burning garbage and the distant
waft of a smashed skunk. Back then, cities 
were always grungy, farms held together
with bailing wire. Wars and famines: I’m sure 
you’re happy to be done with them, likewise 
hurricanes and choking volcanic ash.