Proto-Mouse (In the Last Days of the Dinosaurs)

I did not witness the first strike
but I had already seen the signs
that came even before the ill-omened moon
and understood the end was near.

I did not have to measure
those deep and ancient fault lines
to be wary of the poison I could smell inside them
well before I scampered too near.

The impact ignited the built-up gas
devouring any possibility
of sound over the screaming flames.

And it took no great cunning
to know this poisoned air
would burn down all of the history 
of a once lush era.

Liner Notes for This Groove: This poem is linked to Poets and Storytellers United's Friday Writings.