If there were one among them that did not
call to the corner of my eye as if
the tiny show of tears provoked
should benefit them some way.

And if there were a darkness or evil 
so profound I could find rest within it
ceasing to see them, awake or asleep 
all the same, as I do.

If a reminder of the robin redbreast
or semblance of a last-gasp squirrel
athirst for the cause of all their demise
turns and returns to look at me.

The sunrise on Mars can show the contents
of my heart, horizon-wide the rubble
no rain can ever refresh. Self-exiled
I'll wander, as a dust devil.