Oblivion
a short poem inspired by today’s Merriam-Webster Word of the Day 3.30.2026
…and out of it, something strange awakes…
blink…
blink…
blink…
Like a satellite still beeping to no one and no thing
No ear or home to report back to just…
Singing.
beep…
beep…
beep…
Happy Birthday, Opportunity.
The rovers have all gone dark.
The trash collectors and the mammals have all gone still.
Get Edda's Notebook’s stories in your inbox
Join Medium for free to get updates from this writer.
There are only cockroaches
and crabs
and tardigrades.
Some things escape oblivion. At least for a time.
Vampires.
Beasts of Unusual Size.
Chihuahuas.
Little satellites that sail deep into the abyss between stars
and sing Happy Birthday to themselves because something much more mortal programmed them to carry on a tradition it does not understand.
Some things do not, and only find out they are last on the event horizon
when they call for a mate, and no bird sings back.
or when they send a signal back to their port of origin and all that comes
in reply to their hopeful, insistent little
beep…
beep…
beep…
…is static.








