It's difficult to say when the spring finally ended
The only thing for certain
is that it did end, as we slipped
blissfully unaware, into winter and darkness.
From the highrise apartments in Chicago
to the mud huts baking in the African Sun
From the smiling skulls in the Paris Catacombs
To the open deserts of the great Outback
The wind whispered in the silence
past our giant walls, our empty monuments
past piles of leatherbound books
their pages continually flapping
as if begging to be read, just once more
The hard lines of the cities softened
as the carefully manicured lawns
grew out of check,
turning the skyline green
The human race liked to think we were driving the car
That we were in control
In reality, we were the child in the backseat
with the toy steering wheel
We expected to go out
with an awe-inspiring bang
with a roar of thunder
befitting our importance
Instead (or rather, accurately),
the planet ended silently and without much fuss
a mere footnote in the universe
Sep 19, 2014
Sep 19, 2014 at 10:44 PM UTC
It's difficult to say when the spring finally ended
The only thing for certain
is that it did end, as we slipped
blissfully unaware, into winter and darkness.
From the highrise apartments in Chicago
to the mud huts baking in the African Sun
From the smiling skulls in the Paris Catacombs
To the open deserts of the great Outback
The wind whispered in the silence
past our giant walls, our empty monuments
past piles of leatherbound books
their pages continually flapping
as if begging to be read, just once more
The hard lines of the cities softened
as the carefully manicured lawns
grew out of check,
turning the skyline green
The human race liked to think we were driving the car
That we were in control
In reality, we were the child in the backseat
with the toy steering wheel
We expected to go out
with an awe-inspiring bang
with a roar of thunder
befitting our importance
Instead (or rather, accurately),
the planet ended silently and without much fuss
a mere footnote in the universe
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