The gods are not that much smarter than we are
But they can hear the breaking of carbon double bonds
The crackle of released oxygen and nitrogen
The atomic fire warms our newly born, grateful,
We construct some little worship there

The deer retreat to the island
As the river rises and covers
The scrabble and brush of edges
The water is still cold, rapid and
Blowing up standing waves where
Young grasses will appear soon
Soon not under water, new green, wait

Banks erode, the clay can trap a fawn
Downed cottonwoods lean and tangle
The island slides through the water
The deer must know where it will take them

Our heavy expensive brain labors over nothing
Godlike, but we can design things from the simple
Imperator of other animals, also besieged
Water rising and drowning slowly, untended
By an honest god other than ourselves
we do not ever find.