A Prehistoric Presence: Absent Abel N. Poem by Keith Shorrocks Johnson

Sitting awhile in Civic Square
I missed you there.

I was watching the pigeons and the gulls
Hob-knobbing or squawky strutting
Waiting for scraps from wraps and squabbling
A bobbing beggar crew following
Heartless yellow eyed brigands.

Two birds jostling in that space
But humankind the only race.

Forty thousand years ago you watched
Barrel-chested and wide-nosed
Sniffing us puny newcomers
Listening to the keening sounds,
That drifted from strange kin.

There wasn't room enough for two
We schemed and made an end of you.

Our myths about you are unflattering
That you were unchattered trolls
With quizzical protruding brows
Sitting around napping rough tools
So dim-witted you built nothing.

Now we have the square alone
No rivals since you've gone.

Truth is we just don't know
About your songs and dreams
And what at times you may have seen
Your sense of right, your sense of love
Wonders at the stars light-stretched above.

And we are left to fight each other
With hands we bloodied on a distant brother.