Elementary.

But for these cans they tossed and blended 

with the dust

But for the playgrounds fading silent

into rust

But for the houses, husks now—grinning, 

windows shed

But for the metal carriages, upright,

sentries dead

But for the carcasses washed up ashore

blanched in heat

But for the pigs that they did not slaughter—

now rotting meat

But for the signs that here was a hand

that killed for play

But for the world turned inside out

for a short-lived stay

You would not know that here were men

and women once.

The storm breaks where the land meets sky

the sun beats down

the snow, too, melts

in the highway, now, two peacocks dance.