Footprint

We stand here for a fragment

a mere blink in time,

tasting the air with our tongues,

feeling the earth’s warm breath 

on the soles of our feet,

we worry, we worry for our survival

for food, water and our children’s future,

when we finally leave them

to take our place in the dust, as dust.

Our fears are not humanitarian

they are personal, ashamed

of behaviours past, and how

our fingerprints mark the land,

we wring our hands and ring our bells

to signal feigned regret, embarrassment

that our footprint left such a heavy

stain on this tiny piece of space

in this minute fraction of time.

*

© Graham Sherwood 10/2019

Leave a comment