The Holocene

at night i watch the moonlight melt into the sound like raindrops dripping down glass windows

i’ve witnessed in solace the sigh of winter cover my mother’s grave in a sheet of white

some days i stand on rocky shores and watch the waves roar and reach out of the body to tug at my feet

for a moment i wondered if these beams of universe were city lights swelling with the revelry of life

somewhere they’ll be laughing at the well-dressed apes spinning on the pale-blue spec around a burning sphere of plasma

and someday we’ll be bones fossilized in stones imbedded in the memory of the Holocene