Michael Woo's poem

 

                           Countown TO DESTRUCTION                                 

 

 

 

                                                 

                                          

 

                           There are ten butterflies, in the air,

                          There are nine sparrows, nesting anywhere.

                         There are eight rare caterpillars, by the wall.

                                  There are seven reeds waving tall.

                        There are six racoons, scavenging on the ground,

                                 here are five opposums, not a sound.

                                 here are four mices, scurrying away,

                              There are three pigeons, fluttering away.

                                There are two flowers, withering fast.

                             There is one piece of grass, that is the last.

 

                                       

 

                         NOW THERE IS NOTHING, NOTHING AT ALL!