The Deadline

There will be a glowing neon sign
that will fade and go dark
moths will take up residence
the cracks will appear
the lights that shine on the trees at night will go black
and the trees will die
all of them
their tall blackened trunks will fall over in the snow at night
one by one
and the snow will come
greyed by ash
the themed you-will-have-fun shopping centers
will be swallowed in kudzu
that will turn brown and die
you can sense it with your intuition
it speaks to you quietly
it drives you on
you know this to be true
not some religious epoch
some silly story
it is a genetic memory
the epigenome
whispering to you
of the end