Fleeting era;
Blossom of humanity;
I caught you by the tail,
And now you’re slipping out of my hand.

As we pack ourselves tighter in;
As we close the gaps with our wondrous tools;
We lose our colour,
And melt together.

Tolerance, gift of our violence.
You paint our faces all the same.
I cannot deny your higher road.
I cannot deny my head is turned,
While being driven on with the rest of us.

Like an arrow through a vacuum we fly.
feeling the oscillation of the shaft,
looking down its length at one moment,
and not being able to see over the curve the next.

Pointing at the flex from our momentary vantage.
as if we or they were responsible,
and not the bow
that fired us long long ago.