I spend my days
Searching the soft floors and places near moss grown logs for wood shaped fuel
Other times helping with the food
Making love under the stars most nights

But sometimes...
Retracing rope paths on extinct factory floors
Looking in where the glass used to be
It’s quiet
I heard that they just walked away
Without a care
Into the lush green forest
The wilderness has come back to eat the cities

Nowadays people talk about those times
When the machinery used to growl
Down the paths
Killing any hapless thing in its way
Smoke ran out of towers
wasteful burn
Hundred foot towers of fire, filled some skylines
I find it hard to believe

Now it's like it should be
Searching the forest floors for kindling
Telling stories and creating myths
The wilderness has become the city
It was always there, just waiting for us to return...

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