by hope's own hand -
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surf groaning below
she stood atop the cliff edge, blinking ...
arms spread like Christ under
the (now) purple sun
nuclear ash drifting in soft zig-zags
like a gentle Maine snow …
there was no question now -
no stone left unturned
she was the LAST human being alive
her species had pushed the
limits of their own ids and acumen
their greed and desire for
power and control had finally
won out over the better
sensibilities of their hearts ...
their best intentions and towering
accomplishments were now
but an echo of bitter mass casualty
and she alone bore
horrid witness -
she alone was left to gasp humankind's final aching breath
and with it, damn their folly ...
and their gods.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Mid October 2018 Any Form Or None" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.
Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden | Year Posted 2018
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