Twinned
They dig to make foundations for a steel
And tall glass building, but then come upon
Rock hardened claw prints and a dragon heel
Bone. Eons held in darkness of the dawn
Of death (which we call life) rear up in stone-
Made stillness. We encounter petrified
Incisor or a proto-feather grown
As hard as fate. A moment brings the glide
Of scaly wing, survival of the fit.
The stomping paws of evolution swell
Inside our consciousness and we feel split
From mammals and their warmth. Who could foretell
Destruction of these towering reptiles, or
A jet targeting the 84th floor?