Last One of the Last Ones

I wrote a 50 word poem over on Paul Aronson’s site based on a photo prompt.  I liked how it came out, but I felt like it needed some expansion. So, here we go!

She stepped into the cold, gold water.

Her feet slipped and stumbled on the water-flattened rocks as she approached the center. She blinked and the tears fell.

There was natural beauty all around her. The birds sang exotic love songs to their territories and to their mates.

But, to her, the entire world was all silent gray.

Her people, the Last Ones, were gone. From the oldest to the youngest, they were all gone.

Today was her day to leave.

In the past, there would have been an elder to see her off. There would have been celebrations and ceremonies, music and banners. The ceremonial lei would have covered her chest.

Now, here in the present, she walked through the waters – cold, naked, and alone – to the blackened glyph in the stream.

She crouched in the water and reached for the glyph.

It was out of her reach.

She ducked her head under. Her hair floated and weaved, like tangled brown seaweed.

She touched the glyph.


There was no one in the woods that day.

No one saw the glyph come to white light life.

No one saw her stand up straight, wipe away her tears, and walk into the light.

No one saw the last one of the Last Ones disappear.

But the birds sang on.


2 thoughts on “Last One of the Last Ones

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