Prosery – Amy Woolard

The following prose is based on the line “What does it matter, that the stars we see are already dead.” from a poem called Laura Palmer Graduates by #AmyWooland. written to a prompt @ #dversepoetrypub for a prosery prompt set by dorahak.

The last 144 stars

Starlorn* and blue we sat as the last two. knowing we had destroyed our home. We started with the whales. Then we moved onto the forests and everything within them. With our chainsaws and palm oil plantations.

Starlorn and blue we sit whishing for love from the stars. When they can only scream in despair at their child’s death. The last 144 stars set into action a plan for our demise. Becoming extinct in the production of such a deadly radioactive energy for our consumption.

         Righteous we are not. Dishevelled is our home plant, our morals torn and rotten to the core. The universe rejects our entitled thinking and our take, take, take.    

 What does it matter that the stars we see are already dead as we pass from this universe as the bad guys. The next universe is better off without out us.

*Starlorn- a sense of loneliness looking at the night sky. Feeling like a castaway marooned in the middle of an ocean. (From the dictionary of obscure sorrows.)