Animal Voices III

I’m an idealist,
despite my species.
I know a reformation
of the grand old globe.
 
I know more years than could ever explain
my dwindling hours, by the stagnant lake—
know the battles spurred by a complex
of post primordial life, the bipedal breathers
above us, a darwinist nouveau-riche.
 
well, you bastards, we’ve been here
since you were just a little microbe,
and you can’t seem to get rid of us.
 
I’m a traditionalist. my world
follows Hobbes, and writes haiku
but my aged sensibility (a day
is a lifetime) leaves room
for armistice.
 
woolen clouds advance—
the brass mosquito retreats.
soon, a muddy peace.

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