Once the buffalo
roamed the plains
by the millions, and once
flocks of passenger pigeons
blackened our skies, and the salmon
ran so thick in the Klamath River
you could reach your hand in
and pull one out, and once
there were forests
of magazines
where a writer could make
a buck with his stories and poems...
Max Reif
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/once-15/
