Register Thursday | June 21 | 2018

A Vision of the Future

A Poem

After the Oil Wars, the big boys
laid waste the fields.

The usual things got said
by poets, pundits, and the common man
left to pick up the pieces.
In a room with a drawn shade
a girl stood gazing at her own
face in a cracked mirror.
Could that be her?
Does the world just go on, then?

Yes: on and on.
And in the early morning sun
a woman sits upon a stair
of broken stone
in the middle of what was once a lawn
in front of a burnt house.
She clutches a handbag, staring straight ahead
as a small wind speaks round her ears.