Here in these electronic sands, a furtive glimpse
Of a moment threaded in an ever shifting
Insensate world

Humans vanishing

In their own words
They were strange and wonderful
Splendid and vile

Insensitive to the loss
Of their inimitable gifts
They soon would be gone

Yet water still carves its voice into the rock
And the wind is still the Earth’s herald

— August 2026 —