• Carly Feinman

Day 61- 11.16.20


Before these days, there were others.

When claws, hooves and paws

strolled freely through virgin pastures,

when the moon was the only source of light

to be found in the wet center of night--

those were the days the beasts ruled

and wide-brained, weak-armed, tall walkers

hadn't yet pumped the clouds full with soot

or invented the coveted trophy.

Before these days, there were others.

I can nearly remember them myself,

the day before these.

I wasn't there, to be clear, but

I can nearly hear the echoing squawks,

the motionless, fertile forest

at dawn.

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