At the end of things there were the flames,
			the winds, the covering clouds of smoke, the dreams 
			of trees and sparkling streams. And then at last,
			the creatures stirred again: bold flights of hawks 

			trued up magnetic fields, whole sisterhoods 
			of stylish whales critiqued trench blues and deep-
			sea greens to vet their filtered hues, while civic 
			corps of dinosaurs and mastodons 

			in full parade tamped-down tectonic plates 
			that shook and groaned and spawned wild continents 
			of mountain chains. Out in the wings, the hu-
			mans milled around. Some grooved on Cuban jazz 

			or Mozart's Magic Flute, but others marched, 
			gray-clad, jackboots-and-all, to martial tunes.

				--- Julian Crowell
				Thanks to Lambs & Trochees for publishing
				"Earthsong" in their Fall, 2004 issue.