The first day,of the end of days they gatheredin the park as if it wasa holiday. Picnicsunderneath the trees,& the children roamed free. That nightthe pubs partied while our hiddenneighbours coughedin self-made stockade. The Ministergrave & jittery doctorsblogged on how thismonster crept upon us. We ponderedon the truth: an alienintervention? Myself I sawthe planets sweep awayan old order. My childrenscattered, old loversbarked, eyes distraughtminds unhinged. That was thefirst day: my penimmobile, my handsscrubbed. Now, the sunmocks us, bright &beautiful in its cosmiccradle. The birds’ nest,it is spring. Nothings toldmy cherry tree to delay itsfragile buds & wemay become wiserwith this. The earthhas no need of our ways, we’ll seespring give way to summer days;if we are calm enough,to live this.