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greatpoetryThe Lost Dances of Cranes
Your fields are empty now.
Only your ghosts dance
while cranes of another kind
dance cities into being.
All that remain of you are
a fading crackle of your energy
and some grainy video footage
that people in the new cities
will watch to marvel
at the wonders the world
once held.
By Juliet Wilson
Your fields are empty now.
Only your ghosts dance
while cranes of another kind
dance cities into being.
All that remain of you are
a fading crackle of your energy
and some grainy video footage
that people in the new cities
will watch to marvel
at the wonders the world
once held.
By Juliet Wilson
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