poem

 Aftermath

I stumbled upon the aftermath

Of a cataclysm I had missed.

Here, everything was in ruins

Hypoxic soils reeked of brine

I thought I felt rain but it was

Only the febrile oxygen sweating.

Yes, you could do whatever you wanted

And no one would stop you

But that’s never been what you wanted. 

It was a soundless landscape devoid

Of birdsong or waves crashing  

Or children laughing.

No one stepped forward to apologize 

For all this needless destruction.

There appeared to be no survivors.

I was afraid if I kept exploring this desolate land 

My path would lead to a cave in a desert

Where etched petroglyphs

On granite walls revealed the truth:

That I was the god once worshipped

By a daft, desperate civilization

And I’m the one they blame

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