Gone

A poem that developed from some idle musings.

The world will forget us
as the sun counts its birthdays towards annihilation.
Our hundreds of generations will pass.
Nature will go on.
Our footprints will fade
and disappear.
Our satellites will rust away,
crash,
burn to nothing.
The stars will fly apart,
timeless and indifferent
to six billion creatures many times over
living and dying.
Our daily lives will never be known.
Our greatest triumphs:
never known.
When we are gone,
the sea will ebb and flow,
the wind will blow,
and we will be forgotten.