God smiled. The controls
were working; the small
eaten by the large, the large
by the larger. One problem
remained: the immunity
of a species. ‘Easy,’
the jester at his side
whispered, indicating
the air’s window that the germs
thronged. God opened it a crack, and the human edifice
was dismantled. Among the ruins
one, stupider than the rest,
sat, seeing history’s wheel
idle, putting a hand out, ready
to start it all over again.
by R. S. Thomas
from Counterpoint (1990)
Rambling At The Bridge Head 