Cave Thinking After the Apocalypse

In a world

unfolding a caged and rotting dawn,

after the exodus of the calm ones,

for those left,

their fragile souls remaining,

deep within the caves.

They, clinging to stalactites,

deciding if miracles

will continue to inform their lives.

But all they see is the bruise on the cantaloupe.

And all they can do

is use what magic they have,

to stay alive

so, they no longer fear their own shadows,

while they wait for the exorcisms

and bullet holes to heal.

Nostalgia gives ecstatic dreams.

Is there anything left today that can help those come true?


their example to raise them up

and thereafter

let the echoes of beautiful voices 

within the cave speak for them.