A Dark Day Takes Its Picture
Silt smears into a slow ebbing sea.
A sewage of disabled flesh leaks,
as a slurry of dissolution circles listlessly
until it drowns.
There is a tide, but its fed by breathing tubes
from an unwashed sky.
Bare feet trudge a listless surf,
a greasy sand cakes and clings.
Is this a picture of the crumbling edge
of a dark day or a snapshot of departure?
Camp pots and shredded shelters
wallow now in a miry amnesia.
Some took pictures, of a daylight
Leaking into the plastic hearses
of empty bottles.
After an end that never ends,
atomic waste not nor wants not,
it fertilizes the hunting grounds
of carnivorous moths.
The world keeps wearing its clothes
even though there is less of everything
and more holes.
Copyright © Eric Ashford | Year Posted 2021
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