A town, complete in indifference,
where noon falls heavy as a concrete slab
and the days are long, bright and vast,
far too large for their meagre content,
waiting for the promised arrival of something.
There should be vultures on those branches
watching the efforts of the humans
to give a semblance of meaning to their lives,
but this silence slowly maturing
in a world bleached of meaning was their fate.
Wings of the past lightly brush your cheek
and for a moment you see them again:
refugees migrating into extinction,
heads bowed against the bitter wind of time.
Published in The Ecological Citizen
S.C. Flynn 