Survivors

Minutes from the First Post-Human Council, the New Stewards of Earth 🐙 Held beneath the ruins of a former strip mall, now mossy and majestic.

 

The raccoons called order with greasy finesse,

While pigeons arrived in couture made of trash.

The octopus zoomed in from deep ocean press,

And the squirrels took notes in a caffeine-fueled dash.

 

The agenda was clear: “What to do with the Earth?”

Now that humans had vanished mid-selfie and war.

The bees buzzed in favor of nectar and mirth,

While the wolves proposed banning all concrete décor.

 

“Let’s outlaw leaf blowers,” the owls declared.

“And reinstate silence from dusk until dawn.”

The deer, once so skittish, now proudly stared,

As the council approved a new forested lawn.

 

The dolphins chimed in with a sonar complaint:

“Too many plastics, not enough whales.”

The ants formed a union, surprisingly quaint,

And demanded fair wages for building new trails.

 

A motion was passed to rename the globe:

“Planet of Maybe, Formerly Known as a Mess.”

The jellyfish floated in shimmering robe,

And seconded all with translucent finesse.

 

So Earth spun on, with no humans to steer,

Just creatures in charge of the bureaucratic sphere.

And though progress was slow, and the minutes were long,

The planet, at last, hummed a different song.

 

Done