Evolution

some days    the clouds drift through 
the windows      seeking a place to sit 
to crouch     and gather the strength 
it will take to blow    another town
off the human map     i saw a photo 
just yesterday of such	  a town, street
lights and telephone poles   all
leaning the same direction   a herd
of stunned deer   you don’t need to      
tell me    which way 	the wind blows
there is plenty of ruin     enough
wreckage to puzzle together    the obvious
question isn’t      how    the end
will arrive    not even when   the question
is why  we designed couches     
domesticated softness    only to sit 
and watch   our hands tremble 
over every new story   what happened
to the great apes     who survived 
with only trees    ants    those deep 
expressive eyes     that write poetry
we have forgotten    how to read