POEM: The River Running through this City

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I roam the old city,
gazing at Gothic gargoyles
and touching stonework
made by men long since dead,

wondering how I ended up 
in this chunk of time, 
rather than 

one in which 
this land was all just 
forest or marshland,

or

one in which
we all wait amid the rubble
to blast off 
to some secondary hive of humanity.

1 thought on “POEM: The River Running through this City”

  1. I found this poem very thought-provoking. The question of how we ended up in this time period instead of another will never be answered, but it does make one wonder how you got stuck living in the 21st Century.

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