Worlds Plummet —A Winter’s Tale

Photo by Thomas Lipke on Unsplash

You watch the sky dwindle —
its canopy run with the wolves
& the sun tuck itself beneath
a blanket of starched Earth.

This could be the end of any day —
moon rising in silent prayer
while the techno-fool goes missing
in heavily imagined worlds

intent on serious matters
or foolhardy decay —
forgets to praise the gift of breath
forgets to praise the day.

He is removed so quietly
from his own existence
soul excised with scalpel word
no idea the encroaching tide

will wipe away his world.
Ignore the old gods at your peril
& when the ground runs dry &
the world fails to birth

reach for your storehouse
of limited & useless tools
— you will see
you cannot eat your phone.

Copyright Simon Heathcote

The pilgrim father (and daughter!)