Member Poem

Devonian or Bust

They buy sturdy stuff:

entrenching tools,

canoes, knives & tents;

no camp stoves.

They pay with absolutely

pure gold,

take lots of photos

of people, animals, flowers, forests;

they don't stay long.

I hear things:

the nutritional value of bryophytes,

net- vs. spear fishing,

how long to boil trilobites,

the best designs for solar ovens;

they never buy grills,

when they're going is before wood,

before coal,

before oil.

They know our future,

and they don't stay long, they know,

but no one's talking;

tight grips on their kids

and eyes on their watches;

I can see their fear.

My cousin went with the last group,

one bailed, went native in NYC, they say,

so they had room;

they didn't tell her much,

but the way she said goodbye?

I know it's more than just the 360 million years.

“Make each day count,” she said,

“something's coming.”

Published in Asimov’s