The Last Word On The Last Bird

It’s almost done.

We’re close to the end

the too wet

too dry

too bright

too hot


empty end

If I could turn back time

I’d see flocks of birds

flying into the sunset


as they did for millennia.

I’d see the too loud gulls

swooping and diving

in raucous frenzy 

to fill the sea and the sky.

Now there’s just one.

I’ve nothing more

to say.


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