Prophecy
       

O, we'll find someone to blame.
This isn't random.

Chaos is calculable, iterative.
We should have seen it coming.

Afternoon fog obscures Twin Peaks,
verdant fragrance of earth

relinquishing its dominion.
Crows overpopulate San Francisco,

convocations grip the olive tree
in full avian convulsion,

foliage quivering with
the rage of corvid premonition.

Even technology falls away,
nothing but theory remaining.

Mist levitates over the salvia
like a guru demonstrating science.

The second law of thermodynamics
promises entropy for every creature

no matter how darkly feathered.
No matter how guilty.

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Copyright © 2020 Mary Peelen All rights reserved
from Quantum Heresies
Glass Lyre Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission