Vision Poem by Leo Yankevich

After the apocalypse the bodies
of both the saved and damned lay blown to bits
on the four corners of the smouldering earth,

waiting for a god to mete out justice,
but he too lay among the rotting corpses,
a trillion myths and dreams his resting bed.

Only the most resilient of the mammals,
the lowly rat, cared to attend the wake,
devouring the limbs of both the good and bad.

And then the winter came to shroud the skulls
and skeletons of both the true believers
and those who lived with very little faith.

And in the night, the particles of snow
on their exposed ribs mirrored glimmering stars.