By the Waters of the Bay

We were not there to welcome them home but came later in the long evenings when nightmares ravaged their sleep. Peace had walled in the horrors hiding in the heads of good men. Big blocks gave room for games and unfenced spaces weakened what had, in hard times, glued generations together. No authority held sway over an open sky. Man rode high in the territories of the gods. Distant wars festered under the gaze of cameras and played out each night in black and white until souls, calloused by the count, sought salvation in a haze of chants and love. Economics rescued us and gave a pure purpose to our lives. Sober, swollen with cliches we set about our sacred task to feed the appetites of a rampant want. We argued our exemption from the sins of common man and bequeathed to others the burden of our waste. Reason was traded for a job or abandoned to the promised clean up by a coming god. They now talk of plans to colonize Mars as a lifeboat in case extinction comes to pass. I sit and watch a bloodshot sun sink into the waters of the bay and worry about how long my roses will last.