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apocalypse
Apocalypse
I saw the storm approaching. It had a look of evil intent
People were seeking shelter in the town's only café
I didn't like to share the place with so many
and I had to find my dog before the storm hit
I found what had been a bus shelter, a bunker from a war
only remembered by historians, or a would-be writer
The storm hit with a roar of death and insane destruction
When it was over, the town had disappeared
A field of sea green grass had taken its place, the stillness
so acute I could hear the grass incessantly whispering, that
made my dog nervous, we moved and walked on the sand
of the newborn
We could not stay still, walking on in the hope of finding
a past that could be helpful when we arrive
where the future was, not sure if the old past and the new
The future would merge into a seamless whole
Copyright ©
Jan Hansen
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