The first thing he found was a
Seashell in the
That was the first indicator.
It had remnants of moonlight wedged on its surface
From millennia’s last night.
It wore its ridges well.
An exoskeleton of what used to be.
It may have seen creatures we never knew existed—
In the desert, he thought of giants.
Never was a place so perpetual.
It made sense that giants dug canyons to create shortcuts
To get to work where they hung constellations in the sky
That’s why there are plateaus, steps to a higher power.
They are the real heroes of the world—
Reminding us to look up. They never anticipated the streetlights
Or that we would rather watch our steps than jump.
He felt this before
And that was the second indicator.
When the last of the cliffs of San Pedro trickled down
To kiss the oceans—
Its ever after;
That was the first time he spread his wings and attempted desperately
To go home.
And he was punished—
Wings removed until he found a solution.
it’s all going to shit.