On a gray, sunless day,
an oppressing day,
hot, wet air drips from motionless
trees, ground animals scratch deeper
into the earth seeking survival in cool soil,
the dour sky, empty of birds and flying creatures,
languishes in lethargy. A sullen day.
An apocalyptic day.
Everything struggles for breath.
Once bright colors are mere shadows of their
former vitality. Behold, an eerie foretelling of
earth\'s last gasp when the residue of life will be
a mound of ashes and
a memory.
A day of arrogant absurdity.
Elysian fields forsaken,
marrow sucked from the bones of the earth.
Wasted wonder.
We, carnivores of consumption,
devour ourselves one deceit at a
time until the plate is clean and the
cupboard is bare.
Neither promises, nor prayers,
no political posturing
can rewind the tape.
We suffer from stage four
self delusion, casual conceit.
On a gray, sunless day,
a sullen day,
the carousel stopped and
all the horses stood still.