• Vol. 10
  • Chapter 12
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Lost Futures

There was a point where we cared,
enough to plan what life could be
with a little one in these green fields.

Somehow, we have thrown baby
out, left reminders of new birth
hanging like question marks, mid-air.

The wooden gates are hand-crafted,
made to sustain this lifestyle and we
planted trees to offset the warnings.

Certain essentials are sourced,
meticulously researched, bought
with recycling as the uppermost concern.

I must admit, I fell for the electric blue,
it connected to my body, made me sing.
It mocks me now, cold, empty, weightless.