Hey, Nineteen!

At dawn I walk my neighborhood,
On sidewalks full of cracks and lines,
And water saving zero-scapes,
All over-run with weeds and moss.
 
Sometimes I see a opossum cross,
And native turkeys own the streets,
At dawn the birds ignite their songs,
In daylight made so frivolous.
 
I wonder why She brought us here,
On some level, She had to know,
Maybe we gave Her what She needs,
Or maybe it’s  not worth our price.
 
She’s tried to shake us off, to burn
Our futile cities to the ground,
To have us kill our excess off,
To raise the seas and drown us all.
 
So now She found a different route.
She’s done with huge dramatic plays,
With no more thunder from the Gods,
Just tiniest of tiny things.
 
If not this one, the next one will,
Reduce our numbers ‘til we’re done,
And jungles cover all our work.
I’m still unclear our mission here?
 
I’m almost home, the neighbor’s hedge,
The flower covered rosemary,
A feast for feeding hummingbirds,
Yea, I think, that’s probably it.