Evolution

Wading through the sea of cars
Towards Nordstrom’s and Penney’s and Filene’s
Under the gulls of macadam,
I’m frightened.
If Monarch butterflies find daisy and lilac
In Brazil and Boston,
Why can’t these birds find the coast?
Its beaches are not far
In this Ocean State.
Why would they leave
That dark hulk with crushing foam,
The smell of sand and salt,
For black paved fields
And speeding machines?
Perhaps they’re aware of something we’re not,
And maybe they see a future,
Perched and planning on rusty lampposts,
Over a flat lake
Filled with dead cars and commerce.