Cosmos/Catastrophic Breakup by Lewis Holt

Elk nuzzled for grass between the boulders.
The sky was dark and purple, warm as velvet,
and the streams, freshets from the glacier’s tip,
came angling down, darting with fish, ready
for us to see them.

Then with a thwack we were beneath a sky
made utterly bright. God left the universe
on a hot stove, which made the Milky Way,
which used to be designed for us. I longed,
I was a lark.
Everything changed. And to our greater shame,
nothing had changed at all. The children played
basketball on the courts behind the church.
I saw them on my morning walks, screaming
Did not, did too.

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