Finite World

I put the flour in a jar to protect it
from the flies.
Little did I know it was infected
with life.

One day I went to bake and found an extinguished
Had taken hold, grown, perished
from lack of humidity

Had the creatures known their fate would it
have stopped them living?
Do we think our finite world will be
any more forgiving?

Earth at my back I see the sky
that ancient illusion,
The lid of our own jar in which near nought
of our choosing

One brief moment here we live, we love
make little babies
And now and then just pause to think on such
excessive maybes


Somehow I knew it was going to be about Earth day today (a few days ago that is) …  I’m late again, whatever.


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