Vestiges Poem by David E Navarro

Observing the vestiges of common humanity
I am engulfed in processes that are
reminiscent of the ages when obfuscation
was predominantly a matter of
undiscovered science converging into a
whole entity of wonder about
what really is and what should
really be—no matter what anyone said
regardless of the fact that so much waited
to be known—.
Upon which the information age struck with
a tenacity that propelled us forward into
the morass in which we find ourselves
challenged on every hand by the vestiges
left on the common reality we call, for
lack of anything new or different, life
because after all, that's what it is and
nothing has really changed though we like
to think so in the name of progress yet
a war is still a war, whether with bullets
or arrows or stones, and the hand of
the vicious kills as deadly with a knife
a club, or a gun. It isn't the vestige that matters
but the hate that left it.