The moon watched over
This place that once was
Holding it in its dreams
The memory of the tallest of all
The giants that roamed Africa
Before the rainy seasons were shortened
And the droughts scorched the land
Less and less
Were the giraffes
More and more
Was the silence
And more than one could imagine
There was a rest that no one would have chosen
And a relentless truth
That as warm became warmer
There was less and less

 

 

The stars never asked
And the city lights
Which tried to be as bright
Never answered
Why was all the warmth necessary
When it wasn’t a matter of eloquence
Or a question of survival
Merely a way to do the old things
In a reckless manner
In hopes that one could ignore numbers
And one could deny math
And one could hold back the inevitable
But time had other plans
The scent of the acacia leaves
And the wild apricot trees
Became less and less