The End of Humanity by lori

Dew stands still
on the limbs of flowers, tilting down with the density

The earth sighs and the ocean rolls over
a gentle wave throws his hand out to say hello

in the vicinity of a boundary
width and depth and volume are in motion
to mark the breath of now
the shadow of the future

the trees long for the former years
when their branches danced in the wind
with flexibility

summer sings
lungs filled with smoke and gas and carbon dioxide
and her voice comes out like the blues
the raspy mother midnight song
deep in time with the drumming of the wind

and the music ceases
the tape changes over to
compact digital

words adapt to their surroundings
and talk about gray buildings with summer tans
that look like radiation poisoning

notes whisper
they sound like leaves that lose their color
and the only one who dances is the girl who still remembers
or still wears her hair in pigtails
only to cut it off
and smear it will gel
and dye it red
to purple
to white
these are the colors of the season
and they die because it forgot to rain this year
fall to quickly for you to catch an image
with your camera

it gets cold
but it waits
holds it breath
and it's still

after awhile there are new days
walking outside your front door to find a swarm of small flying ants
and before it can be known the sky gets dark
clouds move in
they hover over you like a cat arching his back for prey
they suggest doom and people remember

fear spreads

fathers collect blood
there are
so
many
fathers
they have wives, sometimes three or four
they have children
from 16
to twelve

blood flows for all the people
someone begs the question
why not me?
and why?
me

we all watch someone die
they die from

addiction
they all die from
their own fear
have you noticed the symptoms?

Sometimes they smile a lot and dance and sing
but this kind of joy seldom touches their eyes
not today
Sometimes they pray
Sometimes they buy airplanes
and start a fortune

Great men watch
They all just say I love you
and they walk until their legs aren't willing
they don't cry me
but they don't let go of me either

But still
she drops an apple on the bed
and they tilt a little

A drop falls from the sky
and in a pond there are small ripples