Crux
On the verge of destruction he stood
His pale eyes shaded against the blast
Life he knew offered nothing for his kind
and yet he held on to his dreams of the future
his determination was nothing compared to the strength of progress
his stance weakened by age
wobbled but held him for decades
a millennia would pass if he had his way
but now was the time to stand down
and let progress eat away at his lively hood
he stood in a barren field
the soil had long stopped yielding to his gentle ways
dried and dusty were the rows once plowed straight and narrow
like the mind of his people and their ways of life
he stood, shook the dust of ages from his well worn trousers
and stepped boldly into the future