the birds circle the tallest skyscrapers as if knowing
each tiny room is filled with dying or dead meat. they
dive, make circles around the tops of the black towers
as if their very presence will crack the climate-controlled flat glass panes
as if their will alone will open the walls and let them in.
below, on the empty streets, wild dogs and feral cats
pace anxiously back and forth in front of the sealed doorways
as if they think the electric sensors will finally
give in, let them in, allow one final flicker of electricity
enough to open the doors, one cold night
enough to crack the thin glass panes
just one door has to open
for all the animals who once lived with us
to know what became of humanity.