THEY took the neighbors today.
I was afraid they might since Ron and Agnes protested in town last month, in the gasoline protest.
They canít afford to drive to work, but they went to town, on bicycles.
they held their signs, and asked for more.
may we have some more please?
more gas for our car?
more heat for our home?
THEY took them before dawn, I heard a noise and looked out, peering from behind the curtains,
listening to Agnes cry, Ron bellowing.
I went to the closet and crept inside and in the dark,
Sometimes, when a storm is coming, the leaves on the maple tree flip up and the tree looks like silver.
Itís something to do with the air currents I know, but I think sometimes it looks like a warning. Like hands waving in frantic gestures. Prepare, seek shelter, a storm approaches!
the mountains in the distance are dark, and far away,
I doubt Iíll make it, there is so much anger between where I am, and where they are.
I doubt Iíll make it.
But the trees are warning me,
and he is waiting,
and I know I must try.
The scattering clouds seemed to fly like spirits across the cold sky and a weak winter sun pointed its pale finger fleetingly at me. ďYou, you, it whispered, why you?Ē
I took several bags, put on a coat, and headed towards their house.
Nothing but the silvered dust dangling in the shafts of light and the cold quiet.
I noticed the bedroom door was closed. I did not open it.
In the sitting room in the front of the house was her violin. Still sitting on itís stand, the bow hanging on itís hook. I gently picked it up and began to play.
Goodbye old friend, goodbye.
How has this happened to us?
Why didnít we see it coming?
Or did we, and seeing it, turned away.
I donít remember now how it came about.
How this emptiness came upon us
while we slept our souls away.
One day, it was over.
One day we awoke to find everything finished.
The cars were still and empty of their fuel,
trucks stopped delivering,
people stopped buying, stopped talking, stopped loving and caring.
Everything finally just stopped.
No one cared. They didnít care when the weather turned mad, they didnít care when the oil ran out, they didnít care when the food disappeared from shelves, they didnít care when the last of the soldiers came and murdered the last of their citizens, and then the soldiers didnít care and they too lay down and just stopped moving.
It was as if all of humanity was suddenly gripped by a sadness so profound that is withered and broke the souls of man and we fell into a sorrow that became our grave.
A great stoic force proceeded according to ITíS plan.
Some committed suicide.
Some just lay down and waited to die.
Some became ghosts.
I wish we could all come back and try again to be human.
Once more to know touch, and sound and feeling.
We had cherished those things too little and they were taken away.
Or maybe we gave them away, I donít know,
but I try to remember,
I try to remember.