A lot of things have changed.
A lot of good folks have gone,
and I’ve forgotten most of them.

Timbers tremble in the woods,
losing leaves these grieving trees
prepare to go where nightmares
fear there will be a terrible dry heat
burning every single thing.

Desolation on a scale
that makes reality
look like a biblical hell,
but I tell myself
we can do better.

We all know
that dreamers lie,
and I include me
in that tricky
category,
because
I do not see
humanity
succeeding.

I only dream
of fallen forms
retreating
due to
our self-inflicted
descent into
death’s dark hallway.