steve a. manolis poet

Final Destruction

 

 

Just before the dawn

just before the eastern clouds

turn alabaster

just before the birds begin their wake-up call

just when the air

is its heaviest, and no sound,

no one single movement,

is ever detected.

 

It is as if the world

is standing deathly still

I listen for the cries

of a lonely earth

wanting desperately,

to seek this moment’s solitude

and to make it last forever

not wanting to become the day

that will bring us closer

to a final destruction.