Last Of It´s Kind

They were not over, not quite yet, sun up and down on you.

One gender left, not ¨ying¨ to meet ¨yang¨ for harmonious love.

What a fine specimen, your markings, form, curious allure.

Looking left and right for inspiration, inside yourself but no other.

Nobody understands, who cares, call out- but language barriers.

Cry out, for you are the last, extreme niche, lately at least.

There were once more of us, but the environment changed.

Operating expenses skewed, sea rose, predators clustered.

Timber harvested, loans called in, debt grind, young and old apply.

Sweeping generalizations under the carpet again and over and over.

In decades temperatures tripled, hindsight deserts just deserts.

Angst at the oasis, crocs submerge, predators patrol verge.

A monopoly on water supply, pay or GET THE HELL OUT THE WAY.

Fight or flight, make or break, our village raided and burnt.

Your fluffy coat soiled as you scurried into the red night sky..

Disbanded, isolated, injured- disabled, disheartened, alone.

Picked off one by one, not seen another for weeks, until you.

Then- AARGH.. I died. You escaped the ambush, hide.

Dodo, you were not fit for conditions, fit enough for the future.

(Everlasting sympathizing sentiments to all those extinct.)

#LastOfItsKind