A crow looked up behind himself
As a robin landed near on a branch
And started twittering in the evening
"What are you singing for?"
The crow sneered. The robin stopped
To look back. "If we can still make music
Then we should," he said, "The sky
Has been so empty lately." "Ah yes,
The pitiful humans having scurried away,
I could get used to their absence."
The robin began another song
Across the street a window lit up
The crow laughed
"You know, they made such a fuss
About having to change everything
To protect themselves, and look,
They live their new lives with barely a stir
How selfish are they to think
They are owed the ocean of luxuries
They indulge in as their daily means."
The robin ended his song
"They are quieter, that is all,"
He said, "Silence does not mean
The worry and pain are gone
I've seen how they pretend they feel different
So they get through it easier, so others
Don't share the sorrow
They are learning how to manage
Their trauma." The crow scoffed
"Perhaps it is commendable, to a degree,
To adjust to so great a change,
Yet if this is possible,
If they can build a new world out of the other
Why do they not save themselves
And the rest of us as they know
One day they must? One day when
It will have needed many more days
To be saved?
They only do so now because they are forced to.
Death, in this form, is immediate before them
Not a future phantom."
"They are shallow creatures," the robin admitted
"And they have made their lives
Too easy, but perhaps the shock
They are witnessing will prove
How fragile their world really is
If they do not change further then
At least there will be this experience
To remind them what must be done
To keep the dawn rising."
The robin flew off with a new song
And the crow squinted down his beak
At the glowing pane
"Imagine a human who didn't forget
As soon as the danger passed?"
@nepion_boreas17
