Lineage

On this pebble, peculiar
Equalities carry on—
There’s life, but no lineage

Is more ancient than others.
All have extinct ancestors.
No organism survives.

Lines go extinct all the time,
But the remaining make more.
At any moment, all lives

Have a common ancestor
And all will die but only
Some will leave offspring behind,

And any given being
Is likely a collection
Of such equally ancient,

Equally doomed storylines
Competing, cohabiting,
Parasitizing themselves.

Whatever they leave behind
Will be increasingly changed
And go on equally, the same.