Poems don’t need me to write them, but sometimes I need to write something that sure isn’t prose. This is today’s poetical offering on the altar of, “it wasn’t ever in the script, but this is life, and it’s kinda cool.”
Odd legacies
Dinosaur footprints & petroglyphs..
Ancient cousins were marveling,
And it took ’til now to find their signs!
Some legacies don’t appear for
Eeeeeee
eeeeee
eeeeeons
But still send shivers up spinal tracts.
Some legacies (like genes) vanish. No trace.
30 years ago, I hoped to be
That Writer whose words were indelible,
Lifting sore hearts, harboring sore minds
Against the casual brutality
Of any age. Documenting software
Cured that, as each season’s work was irrelevant
In days. I still hoped, ached, tried…
But now, I feel that my legacy is written in the flow of blood through hearts –
Ephemeral, but going on forever.
Perhaps an heir of mind will scratch
Petroglyphs near footprints
For others to find in nine thousand years
And send shivers up spinal tracts.
That may be way better than words.