We stand,
proud dinosaurs
in grass. The asteroid
that will obliterate our reign
locks on.
Look on.
Attend that Roach
who waits, wrapped in black wings,
to dog our doom. You think he waits
his turn?
His turn
requires more time.
He'll bide, while mammals teem
this earth and steam our place with their
hot blood.
Odd, blood.
It'll course in veins, emend
to humans' time: they'll chime
the knell for all they've left to board
their Ark.
Fair spark
from reddest eyes
of Earth's unknown true god,
the Roach, will call in friendly fire,
as now.
Mesozoic Prophecy is on the CD
Peter Crofton Sleigh Reads Poems of Alan Reynolds
and also appears on the Aha!
Poetry website.