New Farm

A crow stands on a post.

The town is no more,
But the post remains.

The crow claws at the concrete.

The field is barren;
No one has sown it in years.

The crow sees a man approaching in the distance.

Few men dare to enter
The light lit world.

The crow sits in absolute stillness.

The man scurries in
Absolute quiet.

The crow twists its head to look away from the man.

The man stops for a moment
But continues for the door.

The crow takes flight high into the sky.

The man takes flight,
With great fervor, from the post.

The crow descends for its irradiated meat.

The man was doomed;
There was no medicine there.