the day the world was done
the mountains fell,
oceans finished with their work beneath the moon;
every door was opened, closed,
every book and voice,
and wind that scoffed at gravity
swept away the things held dear,
rooted to this rounded rock,
shooting to the dark like every day that went before,
left behind like silt along the sidewalk;
explosion like the end of sun, night
so great the weight erased our steps,
and light went dark before the eyes of Venus, Mars,
a flicker in the galaxy,
but just a triviality
across the universe,
its billion suns that burn and die,
midnight’s cloying myth of time,
the never ending question of the sky