After All the People Left

After All the People Left

The rediscovery of the spaces was less gradual

than a human observer (had there been one)

might have imagined. But after all, the cessation

of human noise and movement, the crowds of them

filling the spaces, had not been gradual but sudden.

First the dolphins ventured up to the very edges

of shores and wharves and jetties, explored canals

and the mouths of rivers. The birds, of course,

reviewed most widely the new stillness, revelling

in a welcoming emptiness, a clearing of the air.

Tentative paws and snouts quickened, came further

into the deserted villages, towns and cities, prowled

or scurried streets which finally revealed themselves,

now that they were not smothered in living detritus:

those useless animals that used to abound in them.

Those useless animals that never replenished the earth,

never respected their place in the scheme, the chain –

all gone, disappeared, silenced. It was amazing

(had any stopped to be conscious of amazement)

how the wind and rain so quickly cleaned all traces.

But the animals simply wondered, not in the sense 

of asking questions – but of wonderment, elation, joy.

Only the mythical omniscient observer might ponder

if some innate streak of forgotten wisdom or kindness

caused humanity to renounce rights it never really had.


This fantasy images human beings altogether gone, wiped out in some unspecified way. But it was of course inspired by the effects on nature of even our brief self-quarantining.

Written for Weekly Scribblings #16: Re-verse at Poets and Storytellers United. We are invited to use at least one of these words: Rediscover, Review, Reveal, Respect, Renounce. I ended up putting one in each verse.