Dallas Huth lives on Whidbey Island with her dog Stella, near her children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren. She attended the Universities of Kentucky and Hawaii and received a degree in psychology from Humbolt University. As the wife of a naval aviator she learned a lot
more. At the age of 80, when she thought she knew it all, she realized she could still learn a few things and published a collection of poems, You CAN Teach an Old Bitch New Tricks.
Her other poetry books are I Come from Kentucky and heart stone haiku. Her poems have been published in the Santa Fe Literary Review, Waving, Not Drowning, and the Harwood Anthology. She received first prize in poetry and in all divisions from the Whidbey Island Writer’s Association.
My grandmother never asked herself
how can I save the planet?
There was nothing to recycle.
The righteous war had been fought and won.
She didn’t know what her coal-fired furnace was spewing.
I know about depleted ozone and polluted oceans
and landfills and the creation of methane
and carbon monoxide from the forgotten lettuce
I dump in my garbage can.
I know about the proposed
thirty miles of coal trains every day from Montana
over already stressed rail infrastructure
spewing coal dust, holding up traffic
and endangering the herring at sea terminals in Washington.
I know the coal is on its way to China
which is building one new coal-fired plant a week.
Now that I know
do I sign a petition, mail a check
or stand shoulder to shoulder on the track?