We’re not saying your lives,
Your hopes and suffering,
Are without consequence.
Your lives’ consequences
Will sail on, long after
You’re gone (and we say so
As your consequences).
Scopes can be adjusted,
Nonetheless, and the lens
We look through here suggests
Other lives had their turns
To triumph and impress
Natural selection
Enough to shift downstream
Into fresh directions.
You collect trilobites,
And you bleed horseshoe crabs.
Good for you. They ruled, too.
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