There will come a day long years from now

When the sandy desert wind will whistle to itself.

No footprints dotting lines across the dunes.

All memories of Man put on the shelf.


No more the candy wrappers dance along the road

Nor empty beer cans glisten in the night

To softly clink and hoot in gusty breezes.

Cardboard boxes banished from all sight.


Brick will fracture, crumble back to clay,

Their trellises of steel will rust away.

No more apartments stacked like  packages

In some mad marketing array.


Concrete roads will crack, becoming rocks.

Funguses and moss will fill the gaps.

Mice and birds scurry past the pole

Where an ancient traffic sign still slaps.


Tall trees erect their magic structure,

Sink sucking mouths to kiss the earth deep down.

Spread green eyes to meet the morning sun.

Seas of dandelions flood downtown.


Small reservoirs of elephants, big cats,

Re-infect the forests with their grace,

Forage in and out through columned aisles

While branches make cathedrals out of lace.


Ocean-wise the seagulls dip and rise

Like soaring eyebrows off in search of eyes.

The seas are full of carnivals of whales.

No hooks nor nets nor harpoons terrorize.


No oil that blackens seabirds’ wings

To bury pleading eyes in gummy straw.

Blue water glints and flaps against the sun.

Gone, hulls that dive and slide and yaw.


Here and there an old reactor core,

Silent, lightless, tasteless, without smell

Inflames the skin of Earth with sterile death

Like splinters risen straight from central Hell.


The canisters that roll beneath the sea

Crack and split to spill their glowing gifts.

Dead blotches on soft muds and sands

Which slowly kills. Relentlessly it drifts.



These are the monuments to Man,

The zenith that he’s left behind.

When Stonehenge and the pyramids are dust,

Small creatures will they maim and kill and blind.


The ship of Earth has heeled and slowly rights.

The disaster that was Man has passed away.

The tapestry of life reweaves itself.

Celestial Spring has come and it is May.


Predators still make their deadly hunts.

It’s one on one by tooth and claw and wing.

Each creature kills by inborn skills.

Murder has become a home made thing.


No more millions die at one man’s stroke

To make cosmetics, or, perhaps, a joke.

Forests do not fall for gossip’s sake.

Life is blessed by human Ragnarok.


The strangest thing is that Man’s demise

Was done by Man with no assist.

As if he knew the blight he was.

It’s certain that he won’t be missed.




One thought on “Requiescat

  1. Jan, this new poem is very beautiful and calm. There is no fear in it .
    The calmness is that of a cemetery, peaceful and without disturbance.
    Requiescat, a well chosen title. Your poems are gems to me. Thank you.
    The picture is interesting. I like the colours of it and the deer as symbol of spring and everlasting life.


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