Poetry
Whispers of a Chicxulub Witness
The end of an age
May 26, 2024
What is this grainy, gray dust
powdering the verdure?
I taste bitter iron.
What happened to the sun?
Why did the stars go blind?
What is this strange rain?
Today is colder than yesterday.
What happened to the sun?
My pack is as thin as ribs.
Why do so many gather in sleep?
Today is colder than cold.
What happened to the sun?
The carrion jaws
give me no heed.
My mate fell and dust billowed
thicker than stinging bugs once flew.
I can no longer see
the now extinguished sun.
What is this sleepy sadness of
Death’s rumbling arrival?
What happened…?
Originally published on vocal.media
