| EPITAPH We heard him. He'd said, The river has fled out the hill to the high desert valley. And, yes, it ran, laughing while cows went on calving and hawks tied neat ribbons of sky. We watched how it knew how to grow. Yes, it grew new springs hitching their way along in its currents. Then, with some brief torrents, the river spilled into the bay. With strong churning motion, the bay mixed with ocean – debris frothing the sky. (Now, if butterfly wings topple kingdoms and kings by mere beating, how so you and I?) Through winter, spring, summer then fall, with its drummer of steady days beaten in time, we showed how adroit was our craft to exploit all the land – well, it wasn't a crime. While seasons kept passing, we all kept amassing. Business was up – that's for sure. Occasional sighs turned to groans in the skies, the green land and the sea's abstruse floor. Still, most of us folks kept things light with our jokes like, "Those 'green' folks clearly are cracked!" And, "We have rights, too." So, we scoffed and said, "Pooh!" to those nuts who said earth's getting wrecked. We heard him. He huffed, The river's been snuffed! And, true, not enough of us cared. But our reasons were sound so we all stood our ground and refused to get wobbly and scared. Then little by little, the green land turned brittle, the waters turned rotten and cruel. Complainers kept judging but we'd do no budging no matter how loud they'd all growl. We heard the old man when he said, We must plan for our future before it's too late! But, we kept to our tasks and (if anyone asks) we all died. It must have been fate. |