Prompt: “Have you ever heard someone wonder what future archaeologists, whether human or from alien civilization, will make of us? Today, I’d like to challenge you to answer that question in poetic form, exploring a particular object or place from the point of view of some far-off, future scientist? The object or site of study could be anything from a “World’s Best Grandpa” coffee mug to a Pizza Hut, from a Pokemon poster to a cellphone.”
Note: Once again, I’ve taken liberties with the prompt. It’s hard to imagine a distant future for humans with the direction the world has taken, so I’ve imagined a future without humans. On a tangential note, I’m having fun with couplets.
Into the Night
The clouds are at their most beautiful
when they pour over a damaged world.
It’s strange how days can turn into nights
and back again when no one is watching.
Love is less than a memory
in that context, yet clouds don’t know it.
Memoryless, they ride the open sky. The earth
below them is a body barren of flesh.
The space above—infinite and forbidden.