The Survivors Of 2070 Plant A Dream

That man with the hair, who was that guy? His name heard so much — we would laugh till we cried

Photo by SI Janco Ferlic on Unsplash

2020 seems long gone
From here — plunked among gray ash —
Seems so long ago, my son,
A distant, faint and ghastly flash

My grandson, I found you
Alone in these hills
We roasted rat and locusts
and fed on scrawny, fresh kills

That was after, of course, the fires
Scorched all of this this to hell
But before they flooded the other coast,
Before the grand, green lady fell

Floods and fires, fires and floods
the stench, plagues, and cries so unreal
That was when, we envied the dead
And the sun blazed like a sharp, steel pinwheel

Yet, child, see? we remain
We weave and tinker and scheme
And you have a girlfriend, Cindy,
And I have — I have you — and a dream