By Guy Anthony De Marco
A lone roundtail horned lizard,
riding the last of the rusted pumpjacks,
stands watch over the essence of his kin
as their liquid remains are forced from the grave.
The pumpjack engine stutters and groans,
ending its life in a cloud of acrid sparks.
The lizard watches the ruined horizon as it stops
bobbing in rhythm to the mechanical beast.
Tumbleweeds rustle as they wrestle with the tall grass.
The only other sound is the wind of their propulsion.
The lizard leaves the desecrating pumpjack, sagely wondering
what will extract the human oils from the landscape of his progeny.
Guy Anthony De Marco is a member of the following organizations: SFWA, HWA, SFPA, ASCAP, RMFW, and he hopes to collect the rest of the letters of the alphabet one day.
Additional information can be found at en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Guy_Anthony_De_Marco and www.GuyAnthonyDeMarco.com.
Very well written and thought out, I believed I was actually there watching the lizard.
Exactly what I thought too, Edward. The pumpjacks came to life for me too. Quite a poem!