Decimation

We know now that in the early years
Of the twentieth century this world
Was being watched closely by intelligences
Greater than man's and yet as mortal as his own
We know now that as human beings
Busied themselves about their various concerns
They were scrutinized and studied

Perhaps almost as narrowly as a man
With a microscope might scrutinize
The transient creatures that swarm
And multiply in a drop of water
With infinite complacence
People went to and fro over the Earth
About their little affairs
Serene in the assurance of their dominion
Over this small spinning fragment of solar driftwood
Which, by chance or design
Man has inherited out of the dark mystery of Time and Space