The End

hat-bench-explosion-apocalyptic-wallpaper-preview

The End

Hat crammed onto my head I walk
the streets. Nowhere to go now we have failed
ourselves for the last time. Elbowing through dirty
crowds of lost souls, I trip over a warm groaning body.
Sweating and feeling not unlike a corpse myself
I contemplate the glaring truth; we are all
beyond help. Finally, I spy the
park! Amazingly it’s
quiet here most
seek the
churches.
On my
bench
I sit
alone.
I can
see
the
end
from here
as I watch the mushroom cloud blossom.
© Rebecca Sanchez 2015
Shared on 3/6/2020 with my friends at dVerse~Poets Pub for Open Link Night #261. Because of the virus scare and all of the bad news recently, I decided on an old poem about The End I’ve never shared before except with a class with WordPress.

No More Honey

No More Honey

Doth the little honey bee
making life so sweet
diving into every flower
nature’s way complete.

Meets the bee from Africa
now fighting to survive
the honey bee gets overrun
no more honey in the hive.

Overuse of pesticides
spraying every bug we see
poison pollen in the fields
requiem for honey bees.

© Rebecca Sanchez 2013

Shared with earthweal open link weekend #9 on 2/29/2020.