When Antares blows, the world will die-
All creatures great and small stuck
With poison darts flung
As its horizon collapses on itself.
And maybe it is done nine hundred
Years ago and we will not awake,
Not birds, coral or paramecia-
Just a few cells left to start again.
The power that we have is not in tasks
But rests in our relationships
Even with you black and white friend
When the vet confirmed the bloat
And we had to make you sleep;
Nothing to do for an old dog's
Driving home I hold my wife's hand
And watch your moon
Half black, half white,
Turn into the red shield
Of Mars against Antares' darts.