Even Before The War

The sun was so fierce that he was expecting it to roar;
but then, he had not been entirely sane, even before the War.
Sand, grey sand, sniffed like a puppy round his scarred feet,
before scampering down the shattered street
and worrying at some ancient, half buried bones.
He grinned back at the yellowing remains of a skull,
prior to kicking it into putrid fragments.
A few rats fled the disturbance,
pursued hungrily by equally disturbed fleas.
His grin became a weird chuckle of unease,
as vermin swarmed towards him across scattered stones
and the click of rodent claws preceded an oncoming cull.