Thoughtless Impermanence

He stood in a vast square

Where milled many

Who fretted and fussed

Over this

And that

Slowly he raised it

A small black box

Whose edges shimmered strangely

As the lid rose

The sound of the square fell

As an unearthly silence blanketed all

Smothering the words

Which played upon their lips

From it arose something black

Which looked more like a hole

Within one’s sight

This something flickered

As though there

And not

And in a moment

Expanded out

Engulfing the square

And all its little fretting people

But still it shifted

Showing now and again

Its flickering ruin

First destroyed

Then not

The people screaming

Then not

Mother held child

Husband held wife

But none spoke

They simply could not

What was their to say

In the face of death

Which took

And gave

With such thoughtless impermanence