This is the way the world ends

This is the way the world ends,

with the bang of a

million trees exploding,

with the whimper of a

thousand koalas dying,

and unbreathable smoke,

and blowing dust,

and drying earth,

and drying rivers,

and a howling wind,

and a bloody Sun,

and a feeling of

utter helplessness.

Better late

I reached my

seventies, it

seemed, in a rush.

Suddenly I was

wandering in

a forest of years:

71, 77, 73, 78,

74, and look,

over there, at

the edge of the

forest, is 79.

And I think,

“I won’t be in

this forest very

long, for I am

running through

it. I should make

up my mind soon

what I am going

to do with my

life.”