“Borrowed time and borrowed world
and borrowed eyes with which to sorrow it.”

– Cormac McCarthy

1

Asphyxia. Choking on smog, like soldiers in a forgotten war,
Fatal crack in the glass lens of the gas mask
After stumbling in the filtered light.

2

Not waving but drowning.
The dead seas rising to envelop us.
Skeletons reclining on plastic islands.

3

No hum of bees. No flowers vibrating
In the cool of the morning. The trees do not blossom.
Bare ruined choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.

4

…in a handful of dust. The farms have
Dried up and blown away, even the insects starving.
If only there were rain. Dull orange sun in a sepia sky.

5

After the thunder, silence. Negation
Deeper than absence of sound. And she ran toward me,
Burning, eyes staring, mouth open but unable to scream through the flames.

6

Ashes falling like snow
Blanketing bare tree branches, deep on the ground.
Long sleep with no waking.

© Mark Milner, 2018, Vancouver