I am suspended from branches,
of an ancient majestic tree,
in the last virginal forest,
no human eye will ever see.

I gasp for breath in toxic air,
vomit from factory towers.
Flip and flop to pitter patter,
choke in murky, caustic showers.

I photosynthesize at night,
sun captured days of durance vile.
Drink from polluted aquifers,
as tree’s roots shrivel all the while.

The canopy thins more each turn,
no longer a cathedral spire.
Shrinking with the other woodlands,
very soon we too shall expire.

Alas, no one to mourn our loss,
humankind perished long ago.
I was of the first life on earth,
now seemingly the last to go.

M. Zane McClellan

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