Chronillogical

Turned out culture had its own
Alternate magnetic poles—

Whenever the world felt large
And empty and humans small,

Heads pointed inward, to hearths,
But whenever humans swelled

And seemed to be everywhere,
They scattered into the dark.

Magnetic poles switch quickly
After lasting a long time.

Humans had been heading out
For centuries. Then they quit,

Went back to fearful campfires,
Back to avoiding the dark.

Suddenly you couldn’t get too close,
Couldn’t get too many folks,

Too many bodies huddled
Behind the windowless stones,

Bedded down in furs and straw
With their swine and their cattle,

Their dogs and the mice, snuggled
Against the howling at night.

But every chron has lost souls—
In a crowded age, a few

Want more, seek out noisy mobs
Just to feel some comfort there,

And in the darker ages,
There’s always some weird soul,

Errant wanderer wanting
To get more lost than the world.