Remnants – a poem

Remnants

 

Remnants of the past

In tattered glory,

Flying by,

Crawling in the dust,

Hanging on,

Until we are gone.

 

Dusty leaves,

Once green,

Now peeking through

Exhaust fumes

Of passing lorries.

 

Pairs of birds

Devoid of flocks,

Flitting between

Lonesome trees

In search of food.

 

Opher 1.4.2019

 

 

With our pesticides and concrete we have ravaged the rich communities that surrounded us. With our chainsaws, sprawling cities, huge numbers, agriculture and transport we are systematically destroying their homes. With our hunting, overfishing and lust to kill we are decimating populations. With our logging, mines and oil-wells we are poisoning their homes.

What used to be a rich mixture of communities is now reduced to pigeons, sea gulls, black birds and rats.

The remnants struggle to hang on. One day we will be gone and they might return.

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