There I am
in the middle
of a battlefield
admiring a flower;
possibly the last
but that’s not why
I’m interested.
Cannon balls fly,
anger barges around,
blood vessel busting
madness hacks and chops,
mushrooms fill the sky,
spurting, burning bodies fall,
agony stink fills the gaps.
The flower trembles,
unfolds its delicate moment
and the mayhem fades
into a virtual background
while DNA and evolution
insist, despite all objections,
on making their magic.
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