Homo Neanderthalis Poem by Tor Magnor Solvang

The old story, sharp and clean,
We came, they fell, a losing scene.
But new clues whisper, soft and low,
The truth is deeper than we know.

Not a fight of sword and spear,
But hardship, worry, year by year.
Few in number, spread so thin,
The world was changing, closing in.

The ice age bit, the winds blew cold,
Their little groups, both young and old,
Struggled to survive each day,
As different hunters came to stay.

We shared the land, we shared the fire,
We even mixed, fueled by desire.
Their blood still flows within our veins,
A memory that forever remains.

So don't think war, a sudden end,
But fading slowly, friend by friend.
A fragile people, lost to time,
A story whispered, in this rhyme.

T.M.Solvang