the moon moved out on Monday. the skywise stroked their beards, and shook their heads.
that sky bled its blues on Tuesday, and the grey behind them traded doubt for dread.
the wind went wild on Wednesday, and the water wandered after.
the earth dried up on Thursday; so did the last of the laughter.
the fires flickered on Friday.
on Saturday, the cats convened a council, and the men watched them walk into the west.
the sand came in on Sunday. as the city was swept under dunes, the shaman cast his stones and read the runes. he grunted, and nodded, and whispered to himself: “it’s for the best.”