By Evan Mantyk
The Apocalypse: what would it look like?
Half the people now gone,
When the gods’ dike
That holds back raging waters was half withdrawn.
Weeds overgrown, buildings abandoned,
Houses like faces of ghosts,
And locals who look stranded
On an endless cracked concrete coast.
In the streets of Detroit, I walk,
Looking over my shoulder
Wary that the locals may stalk
If they get a bit bolder.
In search of an antidote
To save the rest of the nation
Before the decay begins to float
And spread devastation.
I find endless graffiti
Like messages from a lost race
I find a past century’s
Train station an empty disgrace.
At last! Beneath the infectious decay
Lined up in neat rows,
I find children of the new way
In brilliant purity glow.
The tree saplings stand short but straight
Ready to grasp at the future,
To change the city’s fate
By one day being prized furniture.
The locals get bold but do not stalk,
They come to see the tree farm
And are merely glad to talk,
One says, “I don’t see any harm.
“I see only promise in these trees,
That from our torpid chains
Will set our strength free
To build something of value to sustain.”
Notes: Read more about Hantz Farms here.
Bio: Evan Mantyk is a newspaper editor, writer, and poet living in Harrison, New York. He is president of the Society of Classical Poets.
